


A Place to Belong

by dreamthievespart17



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Book 2: The Dream Thieves, Dream Pack (Raven Cycle), Dream Pack Ronan Lynch, Drinking, Drug Use, Generally bad decision making abilities, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Joseph Kavinsky is His Own Warning, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Polyamory, Ronan is very gay, Slow Burn, Smoking, dream drugs, no violence, poly dream pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamthievespart17/pseuds/dreamthievespart17
Summary: Ronan Lynch and Joseph Kavinsky have never met. When they happen across each other in a dream, they can’t help but meet in the real world. Dreams and drugs lead to discussions and confessions and their lives quickly become hopelessly intertwined...Orhow Ronan figures out he’s gay
Relationships: Jiang/Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko/Skov/Swan, Jiang/Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko/Skov/Swan/Ronan Lynch, Joseph Kavinsky/Prokopenko, Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch, Richard Gansey III/Ronan Lynch (Unrequited), Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish (Unrequited)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. Dream Boy

Once upon a time in a land far away  
There lived a little boy and he drank all day…

—

_Lights. People. Haze. He was so drunk the pounding of the bass sounded like crashing waves, as if he was underwater while the claustrophobia of people rushed above. The lights throbbed in another wavelength and his vision doubled, showing twin images of his hand lighting up another cigarette. He stumbled in time with the music and threw himself on top of the blond boy. The blond boy whose name he no longer cared to recall, but who he knew belonged to him. He could feel it; the possession was natural and the boy’s flashing eyes told him it was well received. He grinned a mouth full of knives and bit the blond boy on the lip, staring fascinated at the crimson blood that welled from the small wound. Blood trickled, then streamed into a river down the boy’s neck, writhing and contorting as it pooled at the base of the boy’s throat, taking sanctuary in the narrow nook above his collarbone. A creature formed in the depths of the scarlet lake and he watched it blink up at him furiously. His head was foggy with clouds and when a faint mist began to shimmer over the boy’s neck, the world began to go dark and he wondered what exactly had been in those pills, until night fell in his mind and he wondered no more…_

Ronan bolted out of his bed on instinct. It was the third time this week that he’d had a dream like this and every time he woke up with his head in a haze and his heart racing like lightening. It was always the same plot, but never the same dream. Same story, different version. Drink, smoke, fight, bleed, pass out. It was like he was living someone else’s life every time he closed his eyes. He always woke up tired and he always woke up with his head high in the fucking sky. It shouldn’t have been possible, but apparently reality no longer gave a shit about what could and couldn’t happen. 

It had been a month since the dreams began and he’d had enough. He sat on the floor of his bedroom in Monmouth and wondered for the millionth time how the hell this was possible. He hadn’t told Gansey; how could he? ‘Hey, Gansey, just wanted to let you know every time I close my eyes I get smashed and wake up the same way.’ Yeah, no thanks. He chewed on his bracelet, thinking. 

“Kerah!” Said Chainsaw.

“Quiet.” He muttered.

He stood up and found that the effects were finally fading. Good. Wouldn’t want Gansey to think he’d actually been getting high. He pulled on a tank top and a pair of jeans and moved to leave. 

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one having a sleepless night. In the common room, Gansey sat in the middle of the floor, painstakingly crafting another Henrietta building out of a cereal box as he stared thoughtlessly at his own practiced movements. When Ronan exited his room and approached him, he looked startled, then confused as he saw that Ronan was dressed. 

“Where are you going?” Gansey asked listlessly.

“No where in particular. Probably gonna light a few gas stations on fire and get unbelievably drunk.”

“Ronan.” Gansey said softly. “It’s not funny. You remember what happened last year. I don’t want to have to worry about where you are or if you’re okay.”

Last year. Last year there was a night that Gansey found him bleeding out in a church after he was trying to escape a different sort of nightmare. Gansey still thought he’d tried to kill himself. Better that than the truth. 

“I’m going for a drive, Gansey. I’ll call you if I end up in a ditch.”

Gansey said nothing as Ronan walked past him. 

When he got to his car, he jerked the door open and got inside, turning the keys in the ignition before beginning to blare one of the finest symphonies ever to grace his mortal ears: the murder squash song. He rolled the windows down, allowing the night air to wash over him, and drove, not really knowing where he was going, but knowing that he had to get away. Get away from _what_ , he wasn’t really sure. The dreams. The nightmares. The strange pull he felt whenever he dreamed of the boy. No, whenever he dreamed he _was_ the boy. But why, he did not know. 

—

The next morning Ronan awoke to the sun punching its way through his eye sockets and down his throat. He checked the time. 10:34. He checked his phone. 17 missed calls from Gansey and four from Adam. Gansey probably thought he really was dead in a ditch. Adam probably only called because Gansey had asked him to. Had thought that if he wouldn’t pick up the phone for him, then maybe for Adam. Ronan decided he should probably get back. He put the keys back in and turned on the engine before starting for Monmouth, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. 

About 20 minutes later, he was back and Gansey was angrier than Ronan had seen him in a long time. 

“Do you know how many times I called you,” Gansey whispered. “17. 17 times. For god’s sake Ronan I thought you were dead!” He was yelling now, screaming really. “All that I ask is that you pick up your phone. Why can you never answer your goddamn phone?!” 

He paused, and Ronan took the opportunity to cut in before he kept going and never stopped. 

“I fell asleep. I would have answered, but I didn’t hear the calls. My ringer was off.”

“Ronan.” A voice said from Ronan’s peripheral. It was Adam. How had he not noticed that Adam was there? “Gansey just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, after…” He trailed off. 

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’ll make sure to leave a fucking note next time I leave the house.”

He turned away and stalked to his room, slamming the door. 

“Kerah!” Said Chainsaw. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ronan replied and he threw her something dead to eat. 

He pulled on his headphones and clicked on a random playlist before shucking off his shirt and jeans and lying on the bed. 

There was a soft knock at the door. Thin fingers gingerly pokes their way into his room and slid the door open. It was Adam. It was always Adam. Adam at school, Adam in the car, Adam at Monmouth, Adam in his room, Adam in his head. It was Adam. 

He didn’t look up. 

“Hey… I just wanted… to make sure that you were okay.” Adam said carefully, as if worried he could cut himself on Ronan. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ronan asked, as if it was a threat rather than a question. 

“Well,” Adam began, before clearing his throat. “You’ve seemed… different lately. Like you have something on your mind.”

“Whatever, Parrish.” 

Adam stalled for a moment, then seemed to think better of it and left silently, closing the door as quietly as he could. 

Ronan moved his headphones to his neck and let the song wail out from them as he contemplated. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t know if it would help or harm him. It was time to go looking for the boy. He was going to find this dream boy and figure out what the hell he was doing in his head, and if he was tied to Ronan’s other… more interesting nighttime adventures. 

_I_ will _find you, Dream Boy_ , he promised. And he began to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This is my first longish fic and it actually took me a lot longer to write it than expected haha
> 
> (More coming soon I promise I finished I’m just editing it all now)
> 
> Basically I was watching a bunch of ~aesthetic~ Dream Pack videos on YouTube and I wanted to describe a dream in the same sort of lense. Shoutout to all the cool people who make Dream Pack videos they’re wonderful and inspired me to write this :)
> 
> And thennnnn it turned into a much longer story so now here we are with an actual plot line


	2. Unforeseen Exchanges

_Blood. Blood was everywhere. He laughed and felt like dying. The blond boy was dead, so it was only right that he should join him. He grabbed a bottle off of a nearby table, its broken neck glinting invitingly, and held it to his wrist. But then he stopped. He remembered what he could do that would make the blond boy good as new. So he grabbed the boy’s arms and dragged him into another room, and that’s when he swallowed the blue pill and he began to dream. And soon, the blond boy woke up next to him. Except it wasn’t really him. A copy. A fake. A forgery. But who could tell the difference? He laughed and felt like dying. Blood. Blood was everywhere. But at least the blond boy wasn’t dead…_

Ronan leapt out of bed and swore. He’d _felt_ it. He’d _felt_ the jagged neck of the bottle kiss his wrist. He’d _felt_ the stickiness of the blond boy’s blood. He’d _felt_ himself trip into dreamland after downing the pill. And now he knew for certain that the Dream Boy was like him. The Dream Boy could also steal from his mind as he slumbered. And now Ronan knew that he wasn’t alone, and he had never felt fear so strong. 

—

_The colored lights screamed at his eyes and he screamed with them. He drank, drank, drank some more and looked for the blond-haired boy. He didn’t find him, but he found another pair of sunglasses, another pair of fakes. Whenever he lost one he dreamed one more and they followed him wherever he went, so he made sure to always wear at least one, so that no one would see the emptiness in his eyes. But tonight he was not looking for sunglasses. He had a pair over his eyes and a pair hanging on his shirt. Tonight, he wanted to find the blond-haired boy. He liked that boy, more than the others, because he knew for sure that he was his. But instead of blond hair he found blue and he supposed that this boy would have to do. They both popped a pill. It was blue, his hair was blue, the world was blue. Blue, blue, blue, blue. He laughed. Then he kissed the blue-haired boy and the blue-haired boy kissed him. Then someone took someone else’s hand and they went upstairs and sat on his bed and the blue-haired boy kissed him again. And then it all went black…_

And then he woke up. And in his hand he found five worn leather bands. And he was confused, but he passed out once more, and when he awoke again, he’d forgotten. 

And at the same time Ronan woke up. And in his hand he found a pair of gleaming white sunglasses. And he was high as hell, but he remembered the dream, even when he awoke once more, and he knew that he had to find the Dream Boy. 

—

When Ronan awoke for the third time he knew that he had to find the Dream Boy, and soon, but deep down it still felt like the wrong decision. He was drawn to the Dream Boy by some bond that he couldn’t explain, some bond that had to do with his dreams and what he could do with them, and that the boy could do the same. Ronan felt like he knew the boy on some strange level, like he was Ronan in another world, if Gansey hadn’t found him and forced him to go to school. 

But the boy still seemed _wrong_ somehow; like something important inside of him had broken and it could no longer be fixed. He was wild and cruel and Ronan instinctively knew that he was someone to be wary of. If Ronan was a flame, capable of burning you if you tried to get to close, then this boy was an explosion, capable of destroying you remorselessly if you do much as tread too carelessly near him. But Ronan still wanted, no, _needed_ , to find him. And now he had someplace to start. 

So he closed his eyes, and he began to dream. 

—

_He was in Cabeswater, but the version of it that lurked in his head rather than in reality. It was similar, but not the same. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, but the trees that grew here were more wild, more unpredictable than the other Cabeswater. It just seemed more Ronan than the version trapped in reality, less tethered, like the version of Ronan that lurked here too._

__

_And then… what was that? A flicker of movement through the trees. Not Orphan Girl; she always came out to greet him when she was here. Something else. His feet moved forward, but his mind was still torn. What had he created? Some new horror without even realizing it?_

_He bypassed the clearing, leaning deeper into the dreamscape to search for the foreign movement, when he realized something was different. The trees were suddenly darker, overgrown and seemed almost dangerous. Metal blinked up at him, glinting in the dying light from where it lay on the desolate ground. He stooped over to examine the object and found that it was… a beer can? Ronan never drank in his dreams; why would he? There was no effect and it was a waste of time. Yet still, something about it tugged at his memory._

_Sometimes when he dreamed of Cabeswater, the mental toll that it took to conjure up the landscape prevented him from accessing his full arsenal of memories, which was what he now experienced. A fragment of desire screamed at him, but for the life of him; he could not remember what he was meant to do. It was simultaneously agonizing and calming, almost as if he’d left the real world in search of peace rather than to complete a specific goal, and now he had it._

_Another flash of movement registered in Ronan’s peripheral. The movement. He’d noticed movement before he’d gotten distracted by the sinister trees and the glint of the beer can. His eyes chased where he’d just seen it a second ago, but nothing was there. And as he turned back, a voice whispered in his ear._

__

_“Hey there, Dreamer. I guess this is how we finally meet.”_

__

_His mind just managed to register the boy’s appearance before the world went dark. White sunglasses. White tank top. Gold chain. Messy black hair. Smile that_ reeked _of danger._

Ronan woke up and leapt out of bed, heart thundering in his chest. The Dream Boy. He was real. And he had just been in Ronan’s dreams. As his body slowly began to realize that it was not under attack, his senses began to return to him more fully, and that’s when he registered the piece of paper, carefully nestled in the palm of his hand.

Anticipation and fear mingled in his head and he swallowed the feelings as best he could as he opened it up. Printed on it in shitty Latin was an address, date and time. And Ronan knew that this was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! 
> 
> I know I’m really hyping up the angst but I promise they’ll meet soon. Also, let me know what you think of the weird dream scene things because I really enjoy writing them, but idk if they’re actually interesting to read
> 
> Feel free to comment with any suggestions/feedback!


	3. He Was Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gay angst.
> 
> That’s basically it.

“You’re going where?” Gansey asked, baffled. 

“To study.” Gansey gave Ronan a look. “With someone from English.” Gansey gave him another _look_.

Ronan didn’t study. He didn’t even go to class if he could help it. 

“Look, he said he’d help me edit my essay. If you’re not going to believe me, well, that’s your fucking problem.” Ronan didn’t meet his eyes. “The point is, I’m going out and I’ll be back late, so don’t bother waiting up.”

“If you want help editing an essay I can do that,” Gansey spoke slowly and softly, as if speaking to a spooked animal. “But we both know that’s not what this is about. If you want to go with your obviously fake narrative about going to study and everything being fine, that’s your choice. Just know that I don’t believe you for one second and neither will Adam, and even if I don’t worry, he definitely will.”

“God fucking dammit Gansey, stop bringing Adam into this. I know you sent him in to talk to me because I didn’t want to talk to you, but you’re not my fucking father. You’ve got to be shitting me. There’s no way you genuinely believe that I need your supervision and that I can’t make my own decisions. Just because I live with you doesn’t mean I have to do what you say.” Ronan had said too much, he knew he’d said too much, but it was too late now. He knew just what words to use to make Gansey feel like shit and now there was no taking them back. 

“I’m going to study now. Don’t bother waiting up.”

Gansey said nothing as he walked out of the building when he heard the door slam behind Ronan, he broke down and called Adam. Even if he couldn’t help, he could keep Gansey company while he suffered. 

Ronan had never felt further away, and it almost seemed like there was no coming back from this one. 

He would let Ronan go – wherever he was going – but he wouldn’t just sit around. He was going to make a plan. Whatever was going on with Ronan was obviously serious; he’d been acting odd for weeks now. Whether Ronan wanted him to or not, he was going to get to the bottom of it. He just needed a place to start. 

With careful footsteps he walked to Ronan’s room and nudged open the door. 

On the surface everything seemed fairly normal. But then… on Ronan’s desk… a pair of sunglasses. White sunglasses. 

Ronan’s entire wardrobe consisted of his Aglionby uniform and his Ronan uniform: black shirt, black jeans, black headphones. Where did he get these sunglasses? 

It was probably nothing, but something in Gansey tugged him towards them with a feeling of weird familiarity. He couldn’t place where he recognized them from, but he knew he’d seen a similar pair somewhere before, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

He pocketed them.

If Ronan wanted them back, he’d have to talk to Gansey about where they’d come from. Might help Gansey figure out what he was up to and whether he was actually in trouble or not. 

Exiting the room as cautiously as he’d entered, he sat down at the table in the main room and waited for Adam to arrive. 

—

Ronan cursed. He’d left the fucking shades in his room! Not that he needed them for whatever shit-hole he was probably going to, but he had grown attached to them in the short time he’d owned them, their connection to the Dream Boy pulling him in. 

Oh well, he’d put them in his car when he got back. Wouldn’t want Gansey finding them and asking questions. Or Adam. Adam. 

When Ronan closed his eyes, when he was dreaming, he was dreaming of Adam. His eyes, his freckles, his lips, his anger, his _Adamness_. Adam was different than Gansey in that he treated Ronan like he was whole. Gansey was overly cautious around him, like he didn’t want to break him. Adam was careful around him too, when he was in one of his moods – which was nearly all the time these days – but whereas Gansey was careful for his own sake, Adam was careful for both of them. Adam knew he had problems and he knew Ronan did too, so he always made sure to leave enough space between them for both of them to breathe. But some days, Ronan wanted to close that gap, to let out all their anger and pain as they each let the other in. But other days – most of these days – he was more interested in his Dreams than reality. And his Dreams were the one secret that he would bring to his grave, like his father before him, he’d die before he’d give up the secret. Even to his friends, even to Gansey, even to… Adam. 

It was better that way, safer. But sometimes, safer didn’t cut it. Which was why Ronan was currently speeding down the road, ignoring stop signs left and right as he uncontrollably drove towards his greatest nightmare and deepest desire. He was not alone. He was not alone. 

Still a secret to die for, but now two could do it together. He was not alone. But he was still terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on Gansey and Ronan fighting?? 
> 
> (It was meant to be a sort of parallel to Gansey and Adam’s argument when Adam moved out of his father’s house)
> 
> Thoughts on ADAM????
> 
> More Adam feelings to come in the next chapter.


	4. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan is angry. Then Ronan has internalized homophobia. Maybe one day he’ll learn to chill out already.

When Ronan rolled up to a ridiculously huge mansion in the foothills of Henrietta, he felt so many emotions in quick succession that it was hard to think straight. 

First, it was anger. With Ronan, it was always anger.

This had to be some sort of sick joke right? A fucking prank or some shit? No one in Henrietta had a house this fucking big unless… 

Next, it was shock. 

A raven boy. This Dream Bastard was a motherfucking raven boy. Someone at his school. Maybe someone he’d passed in the halls and never even glanced twice at. How was this possible? Until the dreams had started and he’d realized what Dream Bastard was, Ronan had thought that he was the only one. 

Then, confusion. 

How could there be another Dreamer? And in Henrietta? And a _raven boy_? 

And soon, back to anger. With Ronan, it was always anger. 

How dare this Dream Bastard fuck with him! Niall Lynch has died for this secret and now some asshole from Aglionby was just flaunting his abilities in Ronan’s dreams like it wasn’t something people would kill for, did kill for. Fucking asshole. 

Ronan was practically shaking with fury at this point. He didn’t care that he should probably be careful. He didn’t care that going in angry was probably going to land him in trouble. He was furious and terrified, though in the moment he refused to admit it, and it wasn’t like he could just back down now. 

After haphazardly parking his car half on the curb, he slammed the door shut with a bang and stalked to the entrance of the house. 

—

It was barely midnight, but people were already drunk outside and he could hear music blasting from indoors. People were everywhere. Raven boys were everywhere. Who _was_ he?

“Hey, Lynch!” Someone called in his general direction. 

Ronan ignored him. He wanted to find the Dream Bastard, the one who’d been fucking with him for far too long, and he wanted to make him fucking regret it. 

He opened the door and started shoving through the throngs of people. 

Again, it was all raven boys, which soon struck Ronan as odd. Surely, an asshole like the Dream Bastard had enough money to convince some girls from the next town over to show up at his party. Why wouldn’t he have invited any of them?

And then… memories of a Dream that he’d had several weeks ago flashed in his mind…

—

_He was looking. Looking, looking, looking, but he could not find what he was looking for. He could not remember what he was looking for, but he’d know when he’d found it._

_“K!” A voice called to him from a few feet away._

_It was the blond boy. Something clicked when he looked at him and he knew that it was the blond boy that he’d been looking for. The other three that made up their group were standing next to him, including the blue-haired boy. The way that all of their eyes devoured him, he knew that they wanted him, but he liked the blond boy the best._

__

_“Proko,” he mouthed and the blond boy smiled and walked over._

__

_His face looked blurry like a smudged painting, but he knew it was probably the coke that was doing that._

__

_He took the blond boy’s hand and they walked, walked, walked, walked, until they were in another room._

__

_Strange, he didn’t remember this one being there, but he may have just made it and forgot. He did that often. Often at night, on the nights that he woke up after and did not remember. And then the blond boy looked at him and he forgot what he was thinking. God, he was gorgeous and he wanted all of him. Proko._

__

_He moved forward and kissed the blond boy. He needed the blond boy._ Needed _him._

__

_They kissed more desperately and he clawed at the boy’s shirt, pulling it off of him before biting down on his neck. The blond boy moaned and he bit down harder. He made his was down the blond boy’s neck and then torso. More, he wanted more. He always wanted more and more was never enough. He grabbed the blond boy by his shoulders and shoved him against the wall, sucking on his skin until it flushed red. He was high still, but so was the blond boy, and neither of them worried because it was always like this._

__

_His fingers moved down of their own accord and undid the buttons on the boy’s jeans, then pulled them down along with his briefs, until everything was exposed. He smiled. The boy was beautiful and he wanted him and the world was right. He put his hand on his favorite part of the boy and began to glide his fingers up and down as the blond boy begged for him to do everything to him. He pleaded for more in the way that K liked it, so he gave him what he wanted until he could give no more._

__

—

__

Fuck. _Fuck_. Ronan had forgotten about this dream. He’d forgotten, because he’d never wanted to remember it. It may have been useful to recall their names, especially now, but that wasn’t what Ronan was focusing on. 

__

This Dream Bastard… he was gay. He was gay and he’d made Ronan experience him fucking another guy through him. And because Dream Bastard had _liked_ it, Ronan felt like he had liked it too. This was only a problem because Ronan made it one and he knew it. It didn’t matter, it was just a dream, it didn’t say anything about Ronan because it wasn’t him. It didn’t matter because Ronan wasn’t gay. Ronan wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. 

__

It wasn’t like he gave a shit what Declan thought, but for some reason he still felt like he’d be letting someone down if he was into guys. Suddenly, he thought of Adam. 

__

He knew what he felt for Adam was a bit different than how he felt about Gansey and his previous friends, but that didn’t mean he liked him like… that. He didn’t even know what liking anyone like that felt like. He’d never been with anyone before, never wanted to be. 

__

But with Adam he felt better. Less angry, more Ronan. But he still couldn’t be gay. He just liked Adam like a friend. 

__

And besides, he felt just as drawn to Adam as he did to Dream Bastard, so he couldn’t like Adam like that if he had similar feelings towards someone he didn’t even know and already didn’t even like. 

__

It was strange that he felt similarly about Dream Bastard as he did Adam, since he’d never even met the guy before and he frequently fucked with not just Ronan’s sleep schedule, but also his relationships with his friends and his ability to be a functioning person. 

__

Recently, Gansey had asked him if he had insomnia because he’d taken to not sleeping rather than facing the Dreams – his own or those from Dream Bastard – but he’d declined to reply. 

__

Dream Bastard was strange. Ronan felt drawn to him in an odd sort of way; he was wild in a way that lacked restraint and Ronan envied him. 

__

With Gansey and Adam, Ronan had to be tame, to keep all the darkness inside so that he wouldn’t hurt them or himself by exploding, but the Dream Bastard seemed like someone who would explode right back if Ronan did it first. Like he’d respond in kind rather than be hurt by Ronan’s flames, and he made Ronan want to have the impertinence to be able to do the same. 

__

Though the fear of the secret remained, as well as the churning confusion now that he recalled that the Dream Bastard was gay, instead of turning his emotions into caution and wariness, Ronan morphed it into restless excitement and let himself be free.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Adam angst returns. When I first started writing this story I wasn’t going to include it, but I feel like it added a bit of much needed flavor.
> 
> Ronan calling Kavinsky “Dream Bastard” is probably the stupidest and best idea I’ve ever had. Is it dumb or is it great? Let me know your thoughts!!!
> 
> (Also, I’m sorry if the italicization is irritating that’s just how I write. It’s not stopping anytime soon, mostly because I’m putting all the dreams in italics, but also because I like to put emphasis on certain words)


	5. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S KAVINSKY TIME!
> 
> Let’s hear a bit of his side of the story...

Kavinsky was drunk. Kavinsky was often drunk, and often enough that he forgot what he had done the morning after. However, when he awoke, recently he’d had a strange feeling of having been outside of his own body. Like he couldn’t remember because he hadn’t been there at all, not because of the alcohol. 

At first, he’d thought he was finally going insane, believing that someone else was living out his nights through his eyes, but even in his most intoxicated moments, he’d always been able to make his own decisions. 

Until now. Until he’d started waking up with the memories torn out of his head at the last moment. 

Initially, he’d believed it was the Dreams that were doing this to him. He’d begun to abuse his power recently, taking more and more until the trees cried out in anger and he was forced to leave. 

When Proko died and he brought a copy of him back, to try and fill the void that served as a reminder of what had been taken from him, he remembered. 

That night, that night he’d still had to fight for control of his memories, but the pure horror was enough for him to recall what he’d done. 

And that was the first time he’d felt him… the Dreamer. When he remembered that night, he also remembered someone else waking up with him memories. 

He knew that it was impossible, but everything about Kavinsky was impossible. From his Dreams to his pack to the fact that he hadn’t accidentally killed himself yet. 

He’d figured that the other boy had to be real and the last time he’d gone into the woods where he stole all his Dreams from, he’d seen him and on a whim, pressed a piece of paper he’d conjured up, with a time and place. 

He didn’t know what to expect from the Dreamer – or whether he’d even show – but he didn’t regret the decision. 

After so many nights of someone else living in his head, he wanted to know why. 

Until this had all started, he’d never even considered if there were others like him, never considered the extent of what he could do. 

Was the Dreamer doing all of this on purpose? Could Kavinsky do the same to him? Take the memories right out of his head and feel the effects of what had gone on in them?

The Dreamer had seemed surprised, scared even, when K had showed up in his Dream, so maybe it hadn’t been on purpose. 

Maybe it was the fact that he’d been living in K’s head for a few weeks now, but Kavinsky felt a strange connection to the Dreamer and he was… intrigued, not to mention more than a little turned on. K would be lying if he said he’d never imagined fucking the Dreamer. 

Sure, he’d been pounding Proko and a couple of the other Dreampack members every night, but there was something about having a guy live in his head and watch him fuck people that made him wonder what the Dreamer was like in bed. 

Honestly, K hoped he showed just for the express purpose of fucking him against a wall, whether or not they figured out why he was living in K’s head every time he partied. 

The Dreamer was hot as shit, no denying it, and K wanted him. Badly. 

And tonight was the night they’d meet. Maybe. 

—

Ronan would be lying if he said he wasn’t about to get himself into trouble. He’d lied to Gansey and stormed out of Monmouth before driving to a stranger’s house to confront them about depositing their fucked up memories in his head – and he felt great about it. 

If he was being honest with himself, he just wasn’t content with Gansey these days, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about Adam, or how he _should_ feel about him. 

And now, here he was in a stranger’s house, a stranger who haunted his Dreams and was probably a raven boy, and he felt liberated, excited even. 

Looking around, he didn’t know where to start to try and find the Dream Bastard, so he took the easy route and headed straight for the alcohol. 

After grabbing a bottle of vodka, he settled himself in a discreet corner where he could get a good look at the crowd, eyes impatiently searching for his target. 

—

One moment, Kavinsky was drinking and dancing on Skov, the boy’s blue hair drawing in his eyes back to him every time he glanced at someone else, when he saw him. The Dreamer. 

He might have told himself that the Dreamer would actually show, but he sure as hell didn’t believe it. 

And yet, here he was. Tall, raging, and absolutely gorgeous, K couldn’t take his eyes off of him. 

And he was just standing in the shadows, drinking alone like a fucking loser. Kavinsky watched him for a few moments, then was startled to see someone wave at the Dreamer from across the room. 

Did he know the Dreamer? Then it hit him. This guy… looked oddly… familiar. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He went to Aglionby. He _went to Aglionby_.

How had K never _noticed_ him? 

In that moment, the Dreamer noticed _him_ and began to walk over…

—

Some idiot from Aglionby had tried to get Ronan to come drink with him, but the last thing that he needed was another stuck up rich boy following him around, so he gave him the bird and turned away. 

And that’s when he saw him. Dream Bastard. 

He looked drunk, but not drunk enough that he’d lost his wits, and there was a blue-haired boy dancing on him in a blatantly sexual manner. And for a second Ronan just stared. At the boy trying his hardest to get Dream Bastard to fuck him in the middle of the party. Stared at nothing as his mind went blank just after he’d realized he was getting hard at the idea of himself fucking the Dream Bastard in the middle of the party. 

The thought was just too much for him to process right then, so he shoved it from his mind and began to walk over to him…

—

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Dream Bastard said after detangling his limbs from the blue-haired boy’s. 

Ronan said nothing. He just stared. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Dream Bastard was hot and Ronan was hard and they were both drunk and he _wanted_ him. This was bad. 

“So are you just quiet or are you fucking stupid?” Dream Bastard asked him nonchalantly. 

“You’re pretty fucking stupid thinking I’m just here for a casual conversation.” Ronan said, somehow managing to find the will to speak. 

“Well in that case…” Dream Bastard smirked at him. “What _are_ you here for?” He laughed at Ronan baffled expression in response to the obvious way his tone implied sex. “Don’t act so innocent, Dreamer. I know you want me,” he said, before stepping even closer to Ronan. 

Ronan’s mind was blank once more, and then a thousand thoughts rushed through all at once. 

What’s he trying to do? Is this some sort of game? He called me Dreamer so he knows who I am, but what’s he doing? Is he lying or can he tell how I’m feeling right now? Why do I have to feel this way about him? Is something wrong with me? God, I want him so bad, but I shouldn’t. 

But why shouldn’t I? Why do I think it’s wrong? God, I am so d r u n k. Did someone spike my drink? No, I just had too much at once. I wonder if he’ll try to kiss me. I wonder if I would let him. I wonder if…

“How about we go find a more… private room, Dreamer.” Dream Bastard interjected, continuing to smirk at him. 

“Fine,” Ronan replied.

Dream Bastard led him through crowd, past the blue-haired boy and the blond one too, both staring at him with confusion and more than a bit of jealousy. Past Aglionby bastards and tables of booze and pills and powders, until they reached an empty room. 

Dream Bastard gestured at him to go inside and he did, hesitantly. 

At first, Ronan through that it was just another room, with furniture and decorations and shit, but then he realized that nothing in this room was possible, including the two boys standing in it. 

Two Dreamers, standing in a room, a thousand Dreams surrounding them. 

“My names Kavinsky, by the way, but call me K.”

“Ronan. Ronan Lynch.”

“Well, it’s fucking time that we met.” Kavinsky said with a grin. “Allow me to show you around…”

The faintest hint of a smile worked its way into Ronan’s lips, and he nodded. 

It was the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so they finally meet.
> 
> Will Kavinsky turn Ronan into a drug addict and/or a dream thief?
> 
> You’ll have to wait and see...
> 
> Also, as always, I love and appreciate comments, so if you’re up for it, leave me a message! If you do want to, feel free to make as long or short as you like :)


	6. Everybody Gets High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song and also the Dreampack video set to the song. It’s on YouTube if you’re curious; I would recommend checking it out. 
> 
> (The lyrics at the beginning of the first chapter are also from the song, which will soon be apparent.)

Smoke curled around Ronan’s fingertips, flowing out in wisps from the joint he held in his left hand. His head was cloudy from the weed and he lounged on a worn couch, eyes glassy as he watched the party rage before him. 

The room was packed, but luckily for him, everyone was drinking and dancing, allowing him to have the couch all to himself. 

His mind and body were shrouded in fog and his thoughts were sluggish as he gazed out at the crowds of people that surged around him, their blurry forms swaying in time with the jarring music as they danced. 

It felt like just another one of Kavinsky’s dreams – the ones he’d gotten to used to living out in his head every few nights – but it wasn’t. This was real life. Or was it?

At a certain point, it became difficult to tell, but Ronan didn’t really mind it. Tonight was about escaping from reality, not living it, and Kavinsky’s party seemed to be the best place for it. 

As he glanced over, he caught a flash of white and saw Kavinsky winding his way through the crowd until he stood in front of Ronan, swaying on his feet with a wide grin that could only mean he was intoxicated. 

He held a bottle of vodka out to Ronan, apparently intending for him to drink it. 

“Take a sip.”

—

The flashing lights attacked Ronan’s eyes as he looked out towards the center of the dancing. The lights glanced off of shining hair, accessories and glinting can of beer, blinding Ronan with their intensity as he strained to look for the host of the party. 

When his eyes adjusted, he found him grinding against Proko as he made out with a boy with obsidian eyes that Ronan had yet to meet. 

Ronan was far away enough and had drank enough that it was difficult to concentrate on the three of them, but there was no way that he could have missed the obvious pleasure radiating from Kavinsky at the two boys’ attention and close proximity. 

In this state, Ronan didn’t have as much of a reaction to seeing Kavinsky grind up on guys than he imagined he normally would have had while sober, but strangely, he found he didn’t mind. 

He stood up from where he was leaning against a wall and began to cross the room towards the group, before he realized what he was doing. 

But before he managed to get over there, the blue-haired one was at his side. 

“You’re Ronan.” It was a statement, not a question, but Ronan nodded nonetheless. 

The blue-haired boy smiled. “So you’re watching K, huh? Going to go over and see if he’ll let you join?”

Ronan paused, his foggy mind shuttering for a moment as he attempted to register the words. “No…” he replied. “Just going to get some more weed. And I’m not gay.”

The blue-haired boy laughed. “Alright then. You’re really just going to get some more weed?”

“Why not?” Ronan replied. “Everybody gets high. Why the hell can’t I?”

—

Kavinsky was talking to Ronan, his mouth moving and vibrations reverberating in Ronan’s skull, but none of the words seemed to latch onto him. 

Kavinsky tried to speak again, but Ronan’s blurred vision made him unable to focus on him, so Kavinsky rolled his eyes and grabbed Ronan’s arm, pulling him into the crowd. 

He forced a few people out of a spare pocket of space and dragged Ronan in, beginning to dance and gesturing that Ronan should too. Ronan just stood there for a moment until he processed what he was supposed to do, and then he began to dance. 

In his peripheral, Kavinsky wove in and out, taking many forms. He was the gleam of opalescent sunglasses, the sheen of sweat, a lock of black hair bobbing with the music, the vibrations that pounded from his moving feet, the glimmer of a golden chain. Kavinsky was everywhere. 

And so, Ronan danced, allowing all his worries to float away with the smoke, discarding his responsibilities with each sip. 

He heard a faint buzzing in his ears and began to comprehend the words coming of Kavinsky’s mouth. No, not words. Lyrics. 

And oddly enough, they seemed more Kavinsky than they should have. 

He felt Kavinsky’s breath curl into his ear as K whispered the words to a song, making Ronan’s nerves tingle at the startling sensation. 

“Once upon a time in a land far away… there lived a little boy and he drank all day…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I’m sorry if you feel catfished. I promise the next few chapters will have a lot of legit plot and character development. This is just something fun that I added as a sort of timeline extension. This is what you get instead of me saying ‘several weeks later...’ 
> 
> Also, I’ve never done any sort of drugs before, so I’m just guessing with all this. I’m hoping it was slightly accurate at least.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)


	7. Life in the Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say dream drugs?

The Dreamer was back. Though he refused to admit it to anyone but himself, Kavinsky really had just thrown a party to see Ronan again, and really, who was objecting. It _had_ worked and since there was free alcohol, no one else really gave a shit. 

As Kavinsky gazed at the form of the Dreamer, crossing the room and moving towards him, he failed to notice who was standing just a few feet away. 

“You really like him.” 

Kavinsky turned to see Jiang leaned against a table, blowing out clouds of smoke. 

“What do you mean, Jiang? He’s hot, of course I like him.”

“I meant what I said, K. You don’t just like his ass, you like him.”

“Fuck off, Jiang. I’ve only known him for a couple of weeks.” Kavinsky retorted, beginning to turn away. 

“We both know that’s not just it.” Jiang replied softly. “We all know that you can Dream, obviously, with all the weird shit you make and what happened with…” Jiang wisely chose not to finish his sentence. “My point is, he’s a Dreamer. Like you. It only makes sense with the way the two of you have been acting and how you took him into that room. I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m just letting you know that we know.”

“Okay…” Kavinsky said, unsure of what he was supposed to say, so Jiang took care of that himself. 

“What I’m trying to say is that he’s like you. He’s like you in the way that none of he can ever be. I get it. Just… don’t forget what the five of us have been through together. Don’t forget us just because someone better came along.”

After a moment of silence, K quietly said, “you know I wouldn’t.” He clarified. “You know I would never forget you.”

“I know.” Jiang said with a half-smile. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it too.”

Kavinsky stared at Jiang for a second and then moved in, crushing their mouths together, letting his tongue explore the inside of Jiang. Just because he didn’t fuck Jiang as often as some of the others didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy it or didn’t recognize how attractive he was. It was just that tonight, Kavinsky had other priorities. 

After a moment, Jiang stepped back. “Thanks for the kiss, K. I’d fuck you right here, but I know you want the Dreamer tonight.” He smiled. “Go find him.”

Kavinsky took his advice. Turning around, he saw Ronan was staring at him, with something in his eyes that Kavinsky couldn’t quite place. K smirked. Maybe it was a good thing that Ronan had caught him making out with Jiang. Might help him figure out that Kavinsky didn’t just want to see him to talk. 

He knew it probably wouldn’t happen tonight, but he could pretend. 

Ronan seemed like the type to accept any dare when it came to drinks, drugs and cars, but still the type to be uncomfortable sleeping with strangers. 

But hey, maybe Kavinsky was wrong. Maybe he’d get lucky tonight. 

With that in mind, he began to walk towards Ronan, meeting him halfway at the table topped with bottles of danger. 

“Want a drink, Dreamer?” Kavinsky asked, smirking at Ronan as he masked his true emotions. 

Ronan looked so fucking good tonight. He’d thrown on a leather jacket and his eyes shone with anticipation, as if he’d thought of nothing else since the last time that he’d been there. 

“Sure, bitch,” Ronan responded. 

“How polite.” Kavinsky flashed his teeth at Ronan as he laughed. “Since you seem to be especially eager tonight, how about we try something a bit harder than alcohol.”

“Like what.”

“Like the kind of shit that lets you feel like you’re dreaming when you’re awake. Try it.” Kavinsky picked up a bag of pills. Red, green, blue, all equally dangerous, each with a slightly different effect. “Pick your favorite, fuckweasel.”

Ronan glared at him, then turned his attention to the bag. After staring at it for a moment, he grabbed a red one and rolled it between his fingers. 

The past few weeks he and Kavinsky had barely spoken of their dreams, the two of them seemingly each deciding that they had no business trusting the other with their most private secret. Instead, they’d resorted to getting high as shit to ignore the problem - among the other ones that they had - and this was the end result. Kavinsky offering Ronan some dream drugs that Ronan hadn’t the slightest idea of the actual effects of. Was it a trick? 

“What are you waiting for, _bitch_ ,” Kavinsky challenged. 

“Aren’t you going to take one too, asshole?” Ronan snarled, “I wouldn’t just down a pill that you wouldn’t even take. Could be poison or some shit.”

Kavinsky laughed. “Oh it’s poison. Dying’s a boring side effect. Take it and see what happens.” There was a strange glimmer in his eye, one that maybe should have made Ronan back down, but instead made him want to do it more. 

Ronan flipped him off, then downed the pill, Kavinsky doing the same a second later 

“Let’s go back to that room, Dreamer. It’s better to be away from other people cuz sometimes shit happens that you don’t intend to. Could accidentally kill everyone here if we stay in the room.”

He began to walk towards the room, Ronan following him, silently as he wondered what was about to go down. 

— 

Back in the room of dreams, Ronan was starting to feel the pill’s effects. 

His vision became hazy and unreliable and he began to see sparks at the edge of his peripheral. The room appeared cast with a reddish tint and when he looked at Kavinsky, he appeared practically inhuman. His head was surrounded in a halo of fire and his eyes were burning like the pits of hell. Their depth was fascinating and when Ronan stared deeper into them, he didn’t just see fire, he saw himself. Trapped in the landscape inside Kavinsky’s eyes, there was another Ronan and there was also another Kavinsky. And in this alternate reality, instead of arguing, the two of them were making out as the world burned around them and ash rained down from above. This Ronan shoved Kavinsky to the ground and tore his own shirt off, his tattoos beginning to writhe and form into ravens that clawed at his skin, begging for escape and leaving bloodied scratches all down his back as Ronan kissed Kavinsky. 

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it disintegrated and the vision was gone. 

Ronan doubled over, gasping as he tried to comprehend what had just occurred. He’d been paralyzed staring into Kavinsky’s eyes watching the strange scene. True, he’d felt like he was dreaming, but the kind of dreaming where he wasn’t in control at all in the dreamscape or in reality – trapped, unable to move in his mind or in his physical form as he let the dream take control of itself. 

“What did you see?”

Ronan turned to see Kavinsky slumped in a chair, pupils dialated and teeth sharpened at the end, each the size and shape of a switchblade. 

“The first time I tried it I saw myself die,” Kavinsky continued as if Ronan had responded. “Creepiest fucking experience of my life. And I knew it wasn’t real, but I couldn’t move my actual body or get out of there. That’s why it’s like dreaming. You can’t move yourself in the real world, you just have to go with what’s happening inside your head.” Kavinsky paused, waiting for a response. 

Ronan said nothing. 

“Anyway, based on what the boys have told me, I think I figured out where what you see comes from. The first time you’re not used to it and you don’t have any control, so your brain just picks up whatever it thinks you want and makes it, but a really fucked up version.”

“So you want to die.”

“What?”

“So you want to die,” Ronan repeated quietly. 

Kavinsky laughed. “I’m glad I met you, Lynch, you’re a bright one.”

Ronan glared at him, but remained silent still as he waited for an answer. 

Kavinsky rolled his eyes. “Yes, how observant. But to clarify, I don’t always want to. It comes and goes, so don’t be too concerned. If I was going to off myself I’d make sure to give you a heads up, okay?”

“Wonderful.” Ronan replied sarcastically. 

“So anyway,” Kavinsky continued, “what did you dream?”

“None of your fucking business,” Ronan snarled defensively. 

“Really? I gave you that shit and you won’t even tell me what it did? For fuck’s sake, Lynch, what is your problem?” After a moment he sighed and spoke again. “Fine. Well, anyway, it gets easier to control. First time, weird shit that you can’t do anything about. But the more you do it, the easier it gets and then you can start taking shit out you’d never be able to make when you’re asleep.”

“Like what.”

“None of your fucking business.” Kavinsky laughed at his own repetition of Ronan’s response. “You’ll find that you on your own time.” He paused for a moment and then said, “oh, and by the way, the effects don’t end when you get out of the dream,” his eyes were black holes as they stared down at Ronan, empty, empty, empty. “It goes on for a while longer…”

Before Kavinsky could finish his sentence, Ronan blacked out, and this time when he dreamed, he was dreaming for real, but he had lost all control. And this time, there was another difference from when he’d first popped the pill… Kavinsky was there with him. 

“Alright, Lynch, show me what you can do.” 

And Ronan surrendered to himself as let his mind reign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love drug-induced hallucinations...
> 
> Anyway next chapter is gonna be exciting, so get ready!


	8. Dreaming a New Reality

_When Ronan became aware of his surroundings he knew that he was in Cabeswater, but it was not the Cabeswater that he knew. The trees were black and the creeks ran with liquid fire. The air was thick with smoke and sweltering from the flames, yet Ronan found that he could still manage to breathe._

_Had Ronan created this?_

_When he turned to Kavinsky he had his answer._

_Kavinsky smirked at him. “This is what lives inside my head. Congratulations, you’re the first to join the party. I’m interested to see what you’ll contribute.”_

_Looking around, Ronan noticed what he’d initially thought were mounds of rubble were actually piles of various substances that it was doubtful Kavinsky could have legally acquired if they had been in the real world._

_Drugs, alcohol, and fireworks. Danger in three of its finest forms._

_He turned back to Kavinsky and stared in fascination as the boy’s eyes began to bleed fire as he grinned, shoving on a pair of sunglasses. He smiled at Ronan, showing sharpened silver teeth._

_“Welcome to hell.”_

—

 _The world was burning and its destruction was addictive. Red, orange, yellow, white hot flames jutted out of the pavement, licking the sky ravenously. Every few moments, a firework recklessly exploded, shooting up sparks brighter than stars before cascading back down as the memory of excitement. The landscape was a desolate wasteland of ash and emptiness, the backdrop that served as the world a lifeless and long-forgotten planet in this world of chaos and adrenaline. Each explosion rocked the ground with its power, hearing a long-forgone concept._

_And in the center of it all, Kavinsky._

_Sunglasses still covering his molten-bleeding eyes, he stood in the eye of the war zone, head thrown back, mouth open, as he took in the fiery glory of his own doing._

_In that moment, there was nothing more beautiful than destruction._

_As Ronan watched, sparks began to collect around him, sticking to his skin rather than just joining the nearby chaos, until K’s face glowed like the Sun and when he opened his mouth to scream, instead of sound, out rushed flames._

_When Ronan realized that the floating ash was beginning to collect around him, faster and faster, he struggled and fought, even as the tornado of soot picked up speed in a glimmering typhoon with Ronan as the eye of the storm. Instinctively, he opened his mouth to shout in protest, and he was instantly engulfed in the cyclone. He felt himself gag, and in one succinct motion, vomited out a monster._

_The thing was toweringly tall, eerily raven-like, and had more sets of talons than Ronan could conceivably count. On the inside, Ronan’s mind was sluggish and his thoughts blurred, not truly comprehending what his eyes took in or even pausing to consider if any of it was even real. On the outside, Ronan screamed and screamed and screamed, but more distorted ravens burst forth from inside of him rather than sound. Of varying size and shape, the raven-like creatures were grotesquely unique, but one in their instinctive savagery, attacking their creator mere moments after they’d begun their existence._

_Ronan threw his arms up over his face to protect himself, still coughing up ash and half-formed monsters, but it was a hopeless battle against the onslaught of whirling feathers and slashing claws._

_And then, flickering at the very edge of his vision, fire._

_More specifically, dragon-shaped fire. And it was rushing straight towards him. Turning to dodge, Ronan found his feet unable to move, so instead, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable impact of fire on skin... but it didn’t come._

_Instead, the dragon was attacking the ravens, one by one, until it had engulfed them all in its insides. Their distinctive bodies could be seen writing in its molten core furiously, yet none escaped._

_Turning to his left, Ronan saw Kavinsky – still bleeding fire – staring right at him, golden corneas burning bright through the lenses of his sunglasses. Then, he smiled, and the dragon and its victims burst into stars and the world went dark as their fleeting lives were extinguished…_

—

_A purple dawn was all that existed in this world. Well, that, Ronan, Kavinsky, and a mysteriously bottomless pack of cigarettes._

_After grabbing a few, Kavinsky tossed the pack in Ronan’s general direction, seemingly indicating that he should join him in lighting up a few._

_Glancing back at the skyline from the pack of cigarettes, Ronan saw that a cliff had appeared and Kavinsky was facing away from him, walking towards it. Was he about to…? No. Kavinsky sat down, legs dangling carelessly off of the edge of the precipice as he lifted a cigarette to his lips, the object seeming to light itself in a small flame that matched the in hue of the unearthly sky that surrounded them._

_After a moment of hesitation, Ronan joined him on the cliff’s edge and stood as he gazed out into the violet sea that lay below them. They had yet to get high in this universe, so Ronan’s thoughts were significantly more put together and as he stared out into the abyss, surprise flickered across his features in the way of a furrowed brow as he considered the surreal beauty of the landscape and the fact that Kavinsky had been the one to create it._

_He sat down, shoulder mere inches away from Kavinsky’s, and took it all in. He didn’t light the cigarette; the moment was more beautiful without the drug that with it._

_Whatever it was that they had just experienced with the fire and ash had been intense and wonderfully impossible, but this landscape was surreal in a way that the other was not. Neither existed in reality, but whereas one was harsh and reeked of chaos, the other was unique in its peacefulness. In all honesty, it reminded Ronan of his father – the contrast between the two version of him; the burning eyes and dark voice that told tales of anger, ferocity and revenge, and the caring parent who showed Ronan the sort of kindness that the world never had, opening the door to the possibility of tranquility and fulfillment – two emotions Ronan so rarely experienced._

_In other words, Ronan was moved – deeply, by the beauty, by the contrast, by the impossibility of it all. How could Ronan feel more joy and peace than he had in years simply by entering a stranger’s dream? How was it even possible that…_

_“It’s for you.” Kavinsky said, interrupting his thoughts. He remained gazing out, but it was clear that his words were meant for Ronan._

_“I made it for you,” he said, hesitating for a moment, waiting to see how Ronan would react._

_Ronan said nothing. There wasn’t really anything that he could say. No one had ever given him a gift so wonderful – no one alive, at least – and with the churning influx of emotions, he was too choked up for words._

_Kavinsky must have sensed the emotion in Ronan’s eyes, because he allowed himself a small smile._

_“I made it for you. I thought you might like to see something beautiful.”_

And together, they awoke. 

—

Kavinsky eased open his eyes and took in the fact that he was in the room of dreams, before discarding the information and peering over at Ronan. The drugs had worn off as they’d entered the purple dawn, ceding control to the whims of Kavinsky’s spinning mind, so he had cut off the final dream only when it had felt right. 

It was terrifying, really, looking into Ronan’s glacial eyes and not knowing how he was feeling. Kavinsky had created that place in a heartbeat with Ronan in mind. The two of them had been meeting for weeks now and they were still fighting fire with fire and drinking away their worries rather than actually getting anywhere, so Kavinsky had done the only thing he could to bring their warring to an end – he made something beautiful. 

Kavinsky didn’t have a lot of experience with beauty, Proko and the others being the only real positive forces in his life, so he’d had to grasp at the strings of his feelings in the moment in order to create any sort of admirable scene. 

And in that moment, he’d been thinking of Ronan. The anger in his eyes and the beauty in them, as well. The beauty that had taken weeks to register in Kavinsky. And when he saw it, it had shocked him like an icy wave. 

The vulnerability that Kavinsky had demonstrated in creating the scene from deep in his own mind was no small feat; he rarely let his guard down around strangers, and never in any way related to his dreaming, so this felt... important for him.

Realizing that he still held Ronan’s gaze, he cleared his throat and said… nothing. He had no idea what he should say, completely at a loss for words. 

And then, a smile curled into Ronan’s lips for what seemed like the first time in centuries. 

“Thank you.” Ronan said. 

And really, that was all Kavinsky needed to hear. 

—

Kavinsky’s mind acknowledged the fact that he was staring into Ronan’s eyes and had been for a long time now – too long, as far as eye contact went – but he continued to stare. It felt good to be vulnerable with Ronan – a different sort of danger – and he just couldn’t make himself look away. 

Ronan appeared to feel the same way, never breaking their eye contact as he stood up, walked over to where Kavinsky was sitting and leaned in to gift him with a kiss. 

Kavinsky’s mind melted and he sat, frozen in place, as time slowed and he took it all in. Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan. Ronan was everything in that speck of time. He filled K’s senses to the brim. Ronan’s lips gently touching his, Ronan’s hand cupping the back of his neck, Ronan’s scent caressing his senses and causing him to overflow with emotion. 

They broke the kiss and looked at each other, processing what had just occurred. 

The high had worn off what felt like ages ago, but the kiss was a different kind of high. The kind that couldn’t be fabricated through drinks or drugs or dreams, and Kavinsky was hooked. Addicted to Ronan Lynch and he never wanted to quit. 

“Thank you,” Kavinsky whispered and when Ronan smiled he almost felt whole. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they finally kiss! More plot development soon to come. It took 8 chapters for them to stop hating each other, so here we go! It’s time to really get into things...


	9. The Dream Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ronan has some fun *ahem* “getting to know” the Dream Pack...
> 
> Also, I know my posting schedule is fucked up and I apologize, but at this time I cannot figure out what day is best for me to put stuff up. I will commit to putting up at least one chapter within seven days of my last update, but it’ll probably be more frequent than that, which I guess is a good thing?
> 
> Anyway enjoy the story...

For the next several days, Ronan internally beamed every time that he recalled the kiss. He’d never kissed anyone before, but it had just felt _right_. Though it still crept up on him sometimes, he did his best to shove down the part of him that whispered that it was wrong, since Kavinsky was another guy. It had been a long time since Ronan could say that he was happy, so not even the ghosts of homophobia could bring him down today. 

Also, for once in his life, he went to school and even arrived early. The first time that Ronan had had his bag packed half an hour before school started, Gansey was properly gobsmacked, Adam merely offering him a small smile. Of course, Ronan didn’t tell them the real reason he wanted to arrive early – to catch a glimpse of Kavinsky before class, or maybe in passing in the hallway, but Gansey was just relieved that Ronan showed an interest in arriving to school at all. Naturally, he still fucked around in all of the classes, but attendance was what counted in Gansey’s eyes. 

And at that very moment, as Ronan walked to lunch side by side with Adam and Gansey, Kavinsky and his Dream Pack turned the corner and began advancing towards them. 

As the two groups approached, Ronan’s heart quickened and Kavinsky stopped, turned to him and smiled, looking like he was about to say something, but Gansey beat him to it. 

“What do you want, Kavinsky?” Gansey asked stiffly. 

“Oh, not much, Dick. Just wondering if you’re always this uptight. Uniform pressed to perfection just the way daddy likes it. I mean, really, Dick, do you ever have any fun?” Kavinsky smirked a bit as he hurled the jibe. 

“I’m not interested in what you call ‘fun,’ Kavinsky, now get out of here.” Gansey ordered. 

Kavinsky laughed. “Ah, now I remember. You’re so boring it’s entertaining. Oh well, what about you?” Kavinsky turned to Ronan, removing his sunglasses as he spoke. “How would you like to come party with us sometime?”

Ronan fought to keep the smile off of his face, not trusting himself to respond without bursting out laughing. Gansey was Ronan’s best friend, but that didn’t make it any less entertaining to watch Kavinsky fuck with him. 

Once again, Gansey spoke first. “Leave him along, Kavinsky, he’s with me.”

“Suit yourself,” Kavinsky replied with a shrug, then winked at Ronan before sauntering away with the others. 

“So, that’s Kavinsky, huh?” Adam commented after a brief pause. 

“Yeah,” Gansey muttered. “That’s Kavinsky.” Turning to Ronan he said, “you should stay away from him. You know he’s trouble and I don’t want you getting mixed up with them.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, Gansey. I won’t go hanging out with street punks.” It was an easy lie to tell. 

Gansey relaxed, but only slightly, before continuing to lead the charge to the cafeteria, like a knight towards battle. All they were really fighting for was an acceptable seating arrangement, but that was irrelevant.

—

After a tedious and uneventful day of school (with no more Kavinsky sightings), Ronan was properly riled up. And luckily for him, Kavinsky had invited him to another party that night, his anticipation making it difficult to answer even the most basic of questions. 

“Ronan, are you alright?” Gansey finally asked after he hadn’t even acknowledged that he’d heard Gansey’s last three questions. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“I’m fine. Actually, I need to go. Tennis practice. Coach is making us stay late and I’m thinking about hanging out with a couple people afterwards, so don’t wait up.”

And with that, he grabbed his bag and strutted out of the building without looking back. 

Gansey turned to Adam. “It’s not just me, is it? He’s been acting odd lately. I’m a bit worried.”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, I mean he’s a little more distracted than usual, but aren’t we all? Exams are coming up.”

“You know Ronan doesn’t care about exams.”

Adam laughed. “Okay, true. But he’s seemed happier recently, at least from what I can tell, so whatever’s going on must be a good thing, right? Besides, he’s actually been attending class voluntarily, so you gotta give him credit for that.”

Gansey considered it. “Fair point. However, I am still perturbed about the context of what activities he’s engaging in. I hope it’s nothing illegal…”

—

And at that very moment, Ronan was… actually just playing tennis. But once he finished practice, showered and changed, it was finally nighttime and that meant Kavinsky time. So yes, he probably was about to do something illegal. 

Throwing his gym bag into the backseat of his car, he was suddenly anxious. He was about to see Kavinsky for the first time since they’d kissed. His whole body felt electric and as he pulled out of the school parking lot, he began chewing on his bracelets out of nervous habit. The anticipation made his blood zing and when he finally arrived in Kavinsky’s driveway, he was practically sweating. 

Get it together, Lynch, he told himself, it’s just another party. They might not even kiss again. Well _that_ would be underwhelming. What if Kavinsky decided he just wanted to stick with his Dream Pack for the night? Ronan wasn’t oblivious enough to not notice the obvious bond between each member of his group, all of them seemingly drawn to one another at all times like some sort of weird set of magnets. And yet, there was no way that Ronan could have imagined the emotion in Kavinsky’s eyes after they kissed. Ronan meant something to Kavinsky, he could feel it in his gut. But the Dream Pack meant something to Kavinsky too, something more than the guy Kavinsky had met just a few weeks ago, so maybe Ronan should get to know them as well. 

Taking a deep breath, he managed to calm himself enough to exit his shittily-parked car and approach the house. 

Pushing the door open, it almost felt like the first time he’d gone to party at Kavinsky’s, except this time instead of anger, all he felt was pure adrenaline. 

There, on the back couch, Kavinsky lounged, Proko kissing his neck as Skov gave him a lap dance, Swan and Jiang sitting a couple inches away, making out and shooting the three of them bemused glances every few moments. Suddenly, Ronan was glad that he’d bothered to figure out all of their names in the last week. 

He began crossing the room, but approached the group more slowly as he got closer, giving them – particularly Kavinsky – enough time to take notice of him before he was upon them. For a moment, they all just sat there, motionless, until Kavinsky broke the silence. 

“Ronan. Glad you could make it,” he said, grinning. 

Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, looks like I didn’t have much else to do tonight, so I figured I might as well show up.”

Kavinsky laughed. “Well, now that you’re here…” he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “why don’t you come sit on my lap? We’re far enough away from everyone else that it’s unlikely anyone will see and realize who you are… but you don’t have to if you’re too scared someone will tattle to Dick…” 

It seemed Ronan wasn’t the only one who was riled up tonight. Kavinsky was putting on more of a show than usual and his final statement was obviously a challenge. Maybe Ronan was wrong, but it almost seemed like Kavinsky was jealous of Gansey and wanted Ronan to sit on his lap at the party full of Aglionby students to prove he didn’t care what Gansey thought. 

It was in the back corner, but people still milled around only a few feet away and anyone could recognize him and let something slip to or in front of Gansey later. However, he didn’t come here to worry about what Gansey thought, so he swung a leg over Kavinsky and shifted forwards so that he was sitting in his lap with their crotches grinding up against each other’s. Kavinsky let out a low groan and Ronan used the distraction as an opportunity to snatch the cup out of Kavinsky’s hand and take a sip of whatever was in it. He coughed at the burning of the drink as it went down – liquor – and Kavinsky responded with a growl as he wiped off his face before leaning in and kissing Ronan. 

His mouth was warm and he tasted like smoke. Ronan moved in and opened his lips to let Kavinsky’s tongue in. Near him, he heard one of K’s friends make a noise of surprise, like they hadn’t actually believed he’d kissed Kavinsky in the first place. Ronan took that as a challenge too and began _devouring_ Kavinsky as best he could, as K growled and bucked his hips, rubbing his dick against Ronan’s quickly hardening one. 

Suddenly, Kavinsky grabbed the back of Ronan’s neck and pulled his head away, burrowing his face in the upper area of Ronan’s neck, sucking a mark into the sensitive skin there. 

“I want him to see this tomorrow. For him to know you don’t belong to him.” Kavinsky whispered in Ronan’s ear, clearly talking about Gansey and clearly jealous. Somehow, the possessiveness didn’t make Ronan angry, it actually made him more turned on. 

“Yeah?” Ronan replied quietly. “Well, he’s not the only one that I could be with if I wanted to.” At the end of his sentence he pushed off Kavinsky and turned to Skov, putting a hand on his chin and silently asking for an invitation. The boy quirked him a confused half-smile, before shrugging and kissing him. Kavinsky growled, but made no move to stop them. Ronan could feel his eyes on them and since he was doing this mainly for show – partially out of curiosity – he shoved Skov up against a wall and pinned him there as they made out. 

It was nothing like his first kiss with Kavinsky – this one was intense and harsh and wild, whereas the one with Kavinsky had been gentle and brimming with emotion. He didn’t mind the contrast though; his head was spinning and he’d kissed Skov just for the experience, not because of some connection, and honestly, it felt nice to be able to experiment. He wanted to see what it was like to kiss others, not just Kavinsky, so why not his friends? They got with K pretty often, so they seemed like the right choice for Ronan to try out making out with. 

With that in mind, he slanted his head, opening his mouth up to Skov, the blue-haired boy kissing him back with equal ferocity until Ronan finally stepped back in an attempt to catch his breath. 

He turned back to Kavinsky, who was staring at him with wide eyes that devoured him whole. 

“You don’t own me, Kavinsky. But… maybe for a night, maybe someday, I’ll let you.”

If Ronan’s mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, Kavinsky’s breath had hitched at his final statement before he moved in, kissing Ronan, hands caressing him like he was a piece of art as he sucked on his lip almost gently. Kavinsky was… something else. 

Kavinsky was fucked up and most of the time, wild and dangerous like a grenade just waiting to go off, yet he still had some room inside of him to be soft and gentle. Ronan had felt it the first time he’d kissed Kavinsky and he felt it now. 

But in this moment, all Ronan wanted was the fire, so he drew Kavinsky in and quickened the kiss as he tangled his hands in his dark hair, pulse surging at the intensity. He cursed as Kavinsky turned his head to kiss the spot on Ronan’s neck that he’d bitten earlier and he let K have free range in the space next to his rapidly thrumming pulse. 

Around them, the Dream Pack watched as he ripped off K’s sunglasses and pulled him closer by the straps of his tank top, Kavinsky responding by sliding his hand down and squeezing Ronan’s ass. Someone in the Dream Pack laughed at Ronan’s answering noise and he felt a small smile alight itself on his lips. 

At the grip of someone’s hand on his shoulder, he broke the kiss and turned to find Jiang waiting for him, Proko using the distraction as an opportunity to drag Kavinsky back onto the couch as Jiang grinned at Ronan and kissed him. 

“Fuck,” Jiang whispered, as he moved his mouth to Ronan’s ear. “If I had known you were up for _getting to know_ all of us and not just K, I would have talked to you sooner.”

“Just having some fun,” Ronan replied honestly, before biting Jiang’s lip. In response, he fisted his hands in Ronan’s shirt and tilted his head as he captured Ronan’s tongue in his mouth. 

When they broke apart, Ronan found Skov and Swan making out on one end of the couch, Proko taking advantage of Kavinsky on the other. Noticing him watching, Kavinsky gestured at Ronan to come over and when he approached, K leaned in and whispered, “I’m glad you came tonight. Last time was incredible, but tonight I’m glad to see you’re… _getting along_ with my friends.”

He gave Ronan a fierce smile that Ronan easily mirrored. Tonight was a _night_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you decide because you have a crush on a guy, it’s a good idea to go and make out with all his friends and somehow it actually works out. 
> 
> The Poly Dream Pack is the best.


	10. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I’d put it up within seven days of the last chapters but then I had writers block so now it’s 2 am but the chapter is here! 
> 
> Enjoy the gay angst.

When Ronan woke up in his car early the next morning, he miraculously was able to make it home before Gansey could miss him. He opened the door as quietly as he could and collapsed on his bed, still dressed. 

Several hours later, he awoke to his door creaking open and Gansey poking his head in. 

“Ronan?” He said quietly. 

Ronan mumbled a vague greeting in response and covered his eyes with his pillow, not wanting to face the glaring sun that blazed angrily at him through the open curtains. 

“Do you wanna… spend the day together?” Gansey asked hesitantly. “You’ve been… busy recently and Adam and I have been caught up with school and Glendower – well, I have, at least. It might be nice for the three of us to do something together, since Adam doesn’t have to work the afternoon shift today.”

Ronan rolled over, squinting in the sunlight as he looked at Gansey. His hair was a bit more disheveled than usual and his dark circles more prominent. He felt a twinge of guilt. In getting so caught up Kavinsky, he’d been neglecting Gansey and… Adam. 

In the last week, he’d avoided thinking about Adam in any context that wasn’t strictly necessary and he’d even prevented himself from looking at him too long, lest it bring up emotions he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. 

After he’d finally kissed Kavinsky, he’d spent a few days thinking about it and doubting himself, but eventually settled on facing what he’d known his whole life. And last night, that had culminated in him making out with Kavinsky and his friends, wanting to experiment with what he’d been hiding from himself for too long. 

He didn’t know if Kavinsky knew he hadn’t been out to himself until the night they first kissed – they hadn’t spent much time talking since then, but it was clear that K had been comfortable with – or at least aware of – his own sexuality long before Ronan. And now that Ronan let himself acknowledge that he was gay, he had a lot to think about in terms of Adam.

He was pretty sure that he’d had feelings for Adam for a long time. He’d always thought Adam was beautiful and interesting and fascinatingly complex, but only on a subconscious level, and now, he better understood what his feelings meant, but… he’d figured it out and come to allow himself to realize because of _Kavinsky_ , not because of Adam. And the way he felt about Kavinsky was… something else. He’d only met Kavinsky a few weeks ago, but he lit a fire in Ronan that one ever had before. 

And still, there were moments when Kavinsky was gentle and kind and Ronan realized that he genuinely cared about him; he wasn’t just attracted to him. And in those beautiful moments, K reminded him of Adam. But the difference between them was that Adam was safe because Ronan could watch him from afar and never have to make his move, while Kavinsky was close and daring and terrifyingly real. If Ronan wanted to watch him, he couldn’t hide, he had to face him head on. And somehow, that made it all that much more enticing.

Returning to reality, he replied to Gansey’s question. “Yeah. Okay.”

Gansey struggled to stay composed as he visibly prevented himself from breaking out in a grin, presumably not wanting to make it a huge deal that they were spending the day together. 

“Great. Adam said he would be here in twenty minutes, if you’d like to shower or change before we go.”

Ronan nodded, still lost in thought, then snapped out of it as Gansey turned to leave. “Wait, Gansey. Where are we even going?”

Gansey rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, then snapped his fingers together. “You’re correct. I did not disclose that information.”

He paused and Ronan raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Gansey sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you might not want to come. I found an old bookstore located inside a historic building and I suspect that some of the books there may be related to Glendower.” Gansey pursed his lips, awaiting Ronan’s reply. 

After a moment, Ronan slowly nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. We can go.”

It wasn’t that Ronan wasn’t interested in the search for Glendower – he knew how much it meant to Gansey, so naturally, it meant something to him too, and he honestly found it intriguing. He just wasn’t much of a fan of bookstores or museums or really anywhere where you had to be careful and quiet. Really dampened the mood. 

Gansey looked relived. He must have been more worried about Ronan than he let on. Or Ronan hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should. Probably both. 

“I’ll let you change,” Gansey said, exiting the room and leaving Ronan alone once more. 

After rolling out of bed, Ronan showered and returned to his bedroom, throwing on another outfit consisting of black jeans and a black t-shirt. He blinked at himself in the mirror, realizing that his shirt did nothing to cover up the red mark on the side of his neck. 

Just as he exited his room, there was a soft knock at the door. Typically, Gansey was the only one who would answer it, Ronan too uninterested to bother, but seeing as he knew it would be Adam, he made an exception. Shuffling to the entrance of the room, he unlocked the door and thrust it open, revealing Adam in a faded Coca-Cola t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans with a small hole in the right knee. He started when he saw Ronan. 

“Oh, hey,” Adam said, rubbing a hand on the nape of his neck. “Sorry, just used to Gansey getting the door.” 

Ronan nodded and stepped aside, allowing Adam to pass, but still staying close enough that their shoulders brushed as Adam entered, close enough to see the pale stripe of a scar at the base of Adam’s throat, close enough to get a faint whiff of car grease and sweat and the _Adam_ smell underneath it all. Ronan swallowed and Adam’s eyes flicked to him for a moment – resting on the mark on his neck – before he glanced away. 

Ronan swallowed again and turned around to find Adam standing next to the table in the main room, facing away from him. For a moment, Ronan was motionless, taking in the curve of Adam’s shoulders, the curl of his hair, the taught fabric of his shirt on his spine. 

Adam always worked hard to look presentable – no matter what he’d been doing or for how long before he arrived – but something about how he always looked away made Ronan suspect he didn’t know his own beauty. 

Ronan’s train of thought was derailed when Gansey stepped out from one of the side rooms, a smile breaking over his features as he took in Adam’s presence. 

“Adam!” He exclaimed. “So great that you could make it! I believe I briefed you on the phone, but I’ll give the once over again. We’re going to a bookstore a couple miles away or so. It’s called Classical Reads and it’s located in a historic building, which seemed quite fascinating based on the photos I found on their website. Also, I called ahead and the store owner confirmed that they had several works pertaining to Glendower.” As an afterthought, he added, “oh, and of course, Ronan had so kindly decided to grace us with his presence.”

Ronan rolled his eyes, but still noted the slight edge in Gansey’s voice. Apparently, he hadn’t exactly believed the lie last time. Still, Ronan hoped he wouldn’t bring it up. No use starting an argument when he wasn’t going to tell him where he’d really been away. Recalling the mark on his neck, he also prayed Gansey didn’t ask about that. Technically, that’s what it was there for – or so Kavinsky had said – but Ronan wasn’t exactly hoping for him to catch onto what it actually was. Not a conversation he needed to have. 

Gansey picked up his journal from where it sat on the table, placing it in a satchel that he slung over his shoulder. 

“All set?” He asked and Adam nodded, Ronan beginning to turn towards the door, unfortunately, giving Gansey the perfect opportunity to see his neck in the mid-afternoon light. 

Gansey frowned. “Ronan, what happened to your neck? It looks like you have a bruise.”

“Uh,” Ronan said, hurriedly attempting to formulate an excuse. “Tennis. Cheng hit me right in the throat with one of his stray balls.”

Gansey nodded, still troubled. “Well, next time, ask him to be more careful.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. Sometimes it was hilarious how oblivious Gansey was; Ronan almost wished Gansey figured out what it really was. Apparently, Gansey was a mind reader, because at that moment he said– 

“It almost looks like a hickey.” Gansey grinned. “But I know you’re not sneaking off to hook up with any girls during practice.”

Adam snorted and Ronan lightly punched his shoulder, skin tingling at the contact with him, but externally acting like it was no big deal. 

“That’ll be a no from me, Gansey. Not interested in skipping practice to hook up with some girl.”

Gansey laughed and Ronan allowed himself a smirk. 

After that, they left in relative silence, Gansey whistling softly as he grabbed his keys and unlocked the Pig, Ronan calling shotgun and Adam sliding into the back. 

The ride there was fairly quiet as well, Ronan allowing the whirling wind to drive him deeper into his mind, allowing himself to finally think the thoughts he’d been shoving down all week – all year really, since he’d met Adam. 

Adam Parrish was beautiful. Adam Parrish. Was. Beautiful. He was elegant, with sharp cheekbones and long lashes that shielded his deep brown eyes. He had slim fingers with peeling calluses, small cuts and scrapes adorning his palms, and the backs of his hands were sensitive and became so chapped in the winter that they bled. He had curling brown hair that Ronan ached to run his fingers through every time he looked at him. Some part of him had known for a while that he was in love with Adam Parrish, he’d just never been forced to face it before. But. But… Adam Parrish was not in love with him. 

Adam Parrish was beautiful, intelligent, hard working and passionate. While he may not have had the capacity to see the qualities in himself, Ronan wasn’t so naïve as to think that no one else did. Adam Parrish could be with anyone he wanted, so why would he pick Ronan, moody, dark, careless, Ronan. Ronan felt a pang in his chest. No, Adam Parrish could not be in love with him. If anyone, he would pick Gansey, with his Prince Charming, save-the-helpless-and-hopeless demeanor. Ronan appreciated him as a friend, but had no desire for anything more – despite what Kavinsky suspected. (He really should be watching out for Adam if he was going to watch out for anyone.)

Maybe Adam thought about Gansey the same way Ronan thought about him. Or, most likely, Adam didn’t like guys. Even if he did, he’d probably date a girl just to fit in. It was already hard enough for Adam Parrish to exist in this world, so why make it even harder by not being straight? It had taken Ronan a very, very long time to even acknowledge his sexuality and accepting it was still a work in progress. Adam didn’t need that. Adam would find a girl just as beautiful and intelligent and hard working and passionate as him and fall in love with her. Someone he could be proud to have at his side, not someone like Ronan. 

At his final realization, Ronan shoved the thoughts back down and once more tried to ignore the beautiful creature that was Adam Parrish, made all the more difficult by the way he sat approximately two feet away from Ronan in the backseat of the car. 

Focusing on the wind and the passing countryside, Ronan did his best to keep his mind blank until they arrived. 

After an unknown amount of time slipped out of his fingers, his eyes flicked forward to find that Gansey was pulling the Camaro into a mostly-empty gravel parking lot. 

“Here,” Gansey hummed softly as he turned off the engine. 

Exiting the car, Ronan peered up to see a several story stone building that looked like it had been hastily patched up several times in the last century or two, instead of being properly repaired. It also seemed like a fucking fire hazard all with its likely-ancient walls, and his lips tugged upwards at the thought of what Kavinsky and the Dream Pack would suggest if they were here.

“What?” Gansey asked, noticing him smiling, Adam’s eyes flicking over as well. Ronan just shook his head and led the way towards the building. 

Inside, it was actually a lot more impressive than the exterior had been, Ronan raising his eyebrows as he took in the cramped space. It made sense why Gansey was so excited to come here; with floor to ceiling shelves holding books upon books upon books and tables crowded with yet more books, it was the perfect home for a frantic scholar on a quest to solve a timeless mystery. 

Towards the back, there was a cash register and behind it, an elderly man read a book whose spine was nowhere to be seen. When he glanced up, Gansey delightedly began introducing himself and explaining why he was there. 

“Parrish,” Ronan said quietly. “That’s our cue. Better get out before he drags us into talking to the guy too.” He nodded towards the doorway to the next room and when Adam smiled Ronan’s heart attempted to impale itself on his ribs. 

In the next room they found more books, more doorways and a rickety staircase. Ronan looked questioningly at Adam and he shrugged, choosing the stairs, Ronan following close behind. As they ascended to the second level, Ronan cursed himself as he found he had no choice but to look at Adam, no matter how much he wanted to shove away his thoughts, there was a terribly convenient eye level view of Adam’s… _lower back._

They reach the second level and find the rooms to all be interconnected in a disorienting fashion, leading to the two of them quickly becoming lost in the endless sea of poetry books until they managed to maneuver their way back to the staircase. Quiet murmurs through the floor seem to dictate that Gansey was still talking to the employee, so Ronan suggested that they explore the top floor and Adam decidedly agreeing. 

It turned out that they couldn’t actually get to the top floor; there was an EMPLOYEES ONLY sign and a frayed rope condemning Ronan’s plan and though Ronan still wanted to go up, Adam convinced him otherwise. 

Ronan turned back to the final level they were allowed on and found it to be history. He snorted. If they were trying to escape Gansey and an inevitable three hour discussion about Glendower, this was just the place they should **not** be. But Adam had his back turned and appeared to actually be looking through the shelves, so Ronan sighed internally, but went to join him, chewing on his bracelets and watching Adam more than the books, no matter how desperately he tried to stop himself. Being that close to Adam made it hard to remind himself how it would never work out and Adam would never want to be with him. Adam’s brow was furrowed and he flipped through the pages of a small brown book, Ronan unable to _not_ observe. 

He turned to Ronan, the two of them closer than Ronan could recall in recent times. 

“Look,” he said, tone colored with a hint of excitement. “This book was published in 1869.”

Ronan snorted and Adam rolled his eyes. “Lynch. That wasn’t the point. What I meant was it’s like 150 years old. Isn’t that cool?”

Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

He stepped a bit closer, heart pounding as he slid his hand under the cover of the book, his fingers meeting Adam’s at the spine. Their fingertips were just grazing, barely touching, really, but it’s enough to send Ronan’s pulse into overdrive. Slowly, slowly, he turned his head to face Adam and found him already looking at him. Their faces are only a few inches away, closer than they’ve ever been, and Ronan’s eyes are uncontrollably flicking down to Adam’s lips, then up again. Just as he was about to lean in, Adam turned away to look back down at the book and Ronan’s face burned with shame. He stepped back and removed his hand from where he was supporting his half of the book and glanced back to the shelf in front of him, not really looking at the books, just pretending for the benefit of both of them. It was a stupid thing to do anyway. He should never have gotten so close when it was clear that Adam had no interest in him. 

What felt like hours later, Gansey bounded up the stairs, breathless and clutching several large volumes. He’s beaming and excitedly begins discussing what he’s found, but Ronan pretty much tunes it out, lost in thought about what has just happened and what could have happened. 

He flashes back to the first time he kissed Kavinsky, recalling the raw emotion he’d felt that night and suddenly wishes he was anywhere but where he was, with anyone else. 

Sliding out his phone he sends a quick text. 

_You free tonight?_

His phone dings with a response seconds later. 

_Meet me at the fairgrounds at 9_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam Parrish.
> 
> Too beautiful to handle. 
> 
> (Though to be fair, a lot of it was just *more* internalized homophobia)
> 
> Next up, Joseph Kavinsky and his band of rich ass street punks
> 
> [also, not sure if you could tell, but I was struggling with verb tenses, so sorry if the inconsistency was irritating]
> 
> Oh and I made a tumblr if you’re bored go talk to me I’m rarely busy @somniabundant


	11. Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I actually updated.
> 
> Enjoy the angst. Emotions be runnin high tonight.

After a truly agonizing day spent trying to ignore Adam’s prominent presence and failing miserably, Ronan felt sullen and restless – like he needed to take the edge off in whatever way he could. 

When the grandfather clock in the main room chimed 8, he went to shower and change, wanting to wash away the memory of the day and the pang of disappointment in his chest as best he could. 

Picking out a classic Ronan Uniform of black jeans and a black tank, he paused to look in the mirror above the bathroom sink. His brows were low and furrowed, mouth set into a harsh line as he clenched his jaw, while his eyes were cloaked by purple rings, giving him a pale, ghostly appearance. He was a phantom, back from the dead and burning with bitterness, determined to exact his revenge on his wrongdoer, or at least seek some sort of satisfaction to lay him to rest. 

Gritting his teeth, he walked out of the bathroom and slammed the door shut, finding Gansey studying in the main room, looking up as Ronan approached. 

“Is something wrong?” Gansey asked, concern coloring his voice. 

“No,” Ronan replied gruffly, “just gonna go for a drive.”

Gansey knew better than anyone how Ronan’s rage surged at night, so he merely nodded and glanced back to his book, a worried look lingering in his eyes. 

Stomping over to his room without bothering to note the expression on Gansey’s face, Ronan grabbed his keys and a leather jacket, flipping off Chainsaw at her mournful _Kerah!_

He practically ran down the stairs and out of Monmouth, needing to escape the confining walls out to the freedom of the night. He dove into his car, gunning the engine as he sped to the grounds, ignoring stop-signs and stop-lights alike. 

At first, the fairgrounds seemed empty and lifeless, the skeletons of what had once been rides reflecting dully in the glint of his headlights. Rusted and crumbling with age, the place gave off the aura of a long-forgotten battlefield, gruesome remains left to rot and face the elements in the years since the place was abandoned. It almost seemed haunted and Ronan felt like he was trespassing on sacred ground, yet as far as he knew, the ley line veered away from the grounds, so it was unlikely that he’d meet any fully corporeal ghosts. 

Ronan checked the time. 8:45. So he was early, fine. The question was, would Kavinsky be the type to be early or late? Somehow both possibilities seemed equally plausible, as both could be considered attempts to gain the upper hand. Ronan snorted. Kavinsky and his fucking power plays. 

He wondered if K had been curious as to why – or had suspected why – Ronan had texted him. Until now, Kavinsky had been the one to contact him first and they had only met up within the bounds of substance parties. It made Ronan curious of the reason that Kavinsky had told him to meet him here, if he had a plan, if he’d convince Ronan to do some things he’d regret later, or if Ronan might make some bad decisions all on his own. When he was in this state, Ronan just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

His palms were buzzing, he just needed to grab something, to feel something in his hands, real and physical, to make up for the time he’d spent today living in his head and agonizing over what ifs. 

And exactly at 8:50, a startlingly white Mitsubishi pulled into the grounds and slowly made its way over to him. Kavinsky parked his car directly next to Ronan’s and for a brief moment, the two of them sat there, neither acknowledging the other’s presence, until Kavinsky grinned and turned his head towards Ronan, meeting his eye and mouthing his name, ‘Lynch.’ Stepping out of the Mitsu, Kavinsky moved towards the driver’s side of Ronan’s car as Ronan removed his arm from where it was resting on the door, crossing both over his chest as he settled into his seat to wait and see what K would do. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, K edged open the door of the BMW and shoved his head in, mere inches from Ronan’s face. He grinned fiendishly. 

“Hey, bitch. Seems like you were having a bad day. Want me to make it better?”

As he spoke his dark lashes caught the light and shaded wing-like shadows onto the area beneath his smoldering, depthless eyes. 

Glowering at him, Ronan felt his pulse surge. He’d never really found Kavinsky beautiful before – that descriptor had been reserved solely for Adam – but now, looking directly into his eyes, there was something undeniably attractive about his features that Ronan had been unable to see in the light of day or smothered beneath LEDs in a room hazy with smoke. 

K smirked, noticing the way Ronan was glaring at him and seeming to enjoy it. Leaning in further, he pressed his lips against Ronan’s roughly and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him out of the car. Suddenly, he released him and turned away, sauntering over to the Mitsu, leaning on the pristine hood of the car and flicking open a lighter for a cigarette. Ronan stood, motionless, watching him, half shocked and half angry. 

Kavinsky apparently knew exactly what to do to push his buttons when Ronan was in this state and he loved and hated it in equal measure, unsure of what to do with the realization that there was someone who understood his anger – if not the source of it – on such an intimate level they they egged him on rather than trying to diffuse the rage. Ronan’s anger was a living, raging thing and while Gansey always did his best to quell the beast, Kavinsky seemed to be the first to come to the conclusion that the only way to deal with it was to get Ronan to release it all in a torrent and be done.

“You gonna come over here or are you gonna stand there all night, Lynch?” Kavinsky asked nonchalantly as he blew out a cloud of silver smoke. 

Ronan growled at him, unable or unwilling to find the words to formulate a snarky reply, instead closing the distance between the two of them, ripping the cigarette out of K’s fingers and crushing it beneath his boot. 

K grinned at him wildly and waited for Ronan’s next move, running his fingers up and down the gold chain that guarded his throat. 

Still glaring, Ronan grabbed his face and crushed their mouths together, lips clashing and tongues battling as they both fought for the upper hand. Kavinsky gripped the front of Ronan’s shirt and flipped him around, so that Ronan had his back arched across the hood of the car, K pinning him down as he rested on top. 

Breaking apart, K grinned again, his apparent amusement just serving to anger Ronan further. 

“Stop it.” He growled. 

“Stop what?” K asked in faux-naïveté. 

“Stop fucking _grinning_ you bastard,” Ronan snarled, getting only a mirthless laugh from K. 

“Shit, Lynch. You really _are_ in a mood tonight.” He paused for a moment, eyes glinting dangerously, hands tightening on Ronan’s wrists as he pressed him down further against the car. “You really seem like you need something to take the edge off. Is that why you’re here? Just for a quick fuck? Dick not satisfying you well enough?”

At the murderous look in Ronan’s eyes, Kavinsky probably should have stopped there with the taunts, but he recklessly decided that he didn’t want to, so he wouldn’t. Ronan had texted him because something had happened that day and he was pissed off about it. Since he spent practically all of his time with Dick and that other one – Parrish – it had to have something to do with one of them. K was fucking sick of Ronan only coming to him for a distraction, so if he was gonna come and try to fuck or fight K, K was gonna say whatever shit he wanted about Ronan’s friends. 

Twisting his lips into a cruel smile, he relentlessly continued. “Did he see the mark I fucking left on you? Was he pissed that you’re going other places to get what you need? Like right now, coming over here, letting me pin you down, eyes practically begging me to fuck you and rough? I bet Dick is too fucking proper to slam you down and give it to you the way you want it. I bet he-“

Something in Ronan snapped. “SHUT UP. SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING BASTARD. IT WAS NEVER FUCKING GANSEY YOU HAD TO WORRY ABOUT. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN FUCKING PAYING ATTENTION BETTER, YOU ASSHOLE, BECAUSE I WAS ONLY EVER LOOKING AT Adam.” Ronan’s voice cracked on the last syllable, as he said Adam’s name. 

Ronan had never shouted at anyone other than Declan like that before and he was shocked that Kavinsky had managed to bring that out of him. The way he’d been bitching about Gansey as if he _actually thought_ that Ronan was sleeping with him had pissed off Ronan with how wrong he was. It was never Gansey, it had always been Adam. And after the shitty day he’d had, thinking about how he’d almost kissed Adam, but had been rejected at the last moment, thinking about how he was in love with Adam, but only just had the courage to acknowledge it to himself, he’d just needed to shout it out loud, to say it to another person and declare that what he felt was real. 

As soon as he realized what he’d said, it was as if all of his energy had been drained out at once. He sagged back against the Mitsu and buried his face in his hands, as he felt K release him and step back. 

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Ronan peeled his hands off of his face and shoved himself off the car, moving to go to his own, when Kavinsky spoke. 

“I…” Kavinsky began, in a rare moment of hesitation. “I didn’t actually think that you were with Gansey, but I thought that you had been before. You and Parrish follow him around all day, so I figured if anyone, it would have been him.”

“Well I’m not,” Ronan muttered, “ _with_ Gansey.” After a moment he added, “or Adam. I just wish…”

Kavinsky had no reply as he listened to Ronan trail off. 

Ronan moved to open the door to his car, then cursed in realization. If he went home now, Gansey would still be awake and at the moment, the idea of even looking at him was way too much for Ronan. Gansey wasn’t the one he was in love with, but just being around him made him think of Adam with the obscene amount of time the three of them spent in each other’s company. 

Ronan sagged against his car this time. He closed his eyes, sighing internally. “ _Shit_ ,” he muttered. He wasn’t ready to go back just yet. 

Pushing himself upright, he turned to look back at Kavinsky and found his face masked into an unreadable expression. 

Kavinsky didn’t apologize; admitting he was wrong had been good enough. But, since it was clear that Ronan didn’t want to go back to the fucking shithole factory that he lived in, K could provide an alternative – and a distraction. 

He cleared his throat. “I was going to ask the boys to join us at some point, to fuck around and have some fun. I’ll tell them to come now if you want to get out of here.”

At Ronan’s nod, Kavinsky pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his pack, telling them to get their asses over there already. 

When he finished, he slid his phone back into his pocket and looked out into the fairgrounds, a new form of jealousy twinging in his chest and clouding his thoughts. The idea that Dick had fucked Ronan was one that pissed him off, but he could deal with that. Sex didn’t always have to be something deep and meaningful and all that shit. But the idea that there was something about Parrish that got Ronan this riled up from the agony of his feelings not being reciprocated… that was something else. Only a fucking idiot would turn Ronan down and only a fucking angel could win his heart. Who did Parrish think he was, playing with Ronan like that?

K shook his head ever so slightly and lit up another cigarette. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ronan, taking in the outline of him and puzzling over how anyone could not be absolutely enthralled with him. It truly was a mystery. 

Feeling a little guilty about his incorrect assumption, K just hoped the night would only get better for here. Not for himself, but for Ronan. Ronan deserved to have some fun, even if he was only using K as a distraction. 

Thinking back to the first time that they’d kissed, Kavinsky recalled the feeling that has bloomed in him in that moment. He wondered if Ronan had felt the same. They hadn’t talked about it; there hadn’t really been a good time to do so since then. Maybe Ronan really was just using him…

He settled back and waited for his boys to arrive and let his thoughts drift away with the wind, cool and collected, until he felt his heart drop at the idea that Ronan would leave him if Parrish ever changed his mind, fists clenching, as his heart churned, as he realized that somewhere along the way, he’d begun to care about Ronan, about what he thought of K and how he was feeling overall. This made things a lot more complicated…

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I really am sorry about disappearing for a month. School started and I’m taking way more difficult classes than I should because challenge yourself right? (Uhhh maybe that was a bad idea)
> 
> Also my anxiety has reached unfortunate levels which is partially related to academics but also just life being a jerk.
> 
> However, writing is fun so I’m going to try and schedule in more time do it. 
> 
> I believe I said this, but I initially prewrote the story and I’m now going in and adding more scenes and just making things make more sense so I basically have the rest of the story planned out I just need to edit/add extra scenes in.
> 
> I should have the next chapter out in a couple days, I’m going to write it tonight and edit it when I get the chance. 
> 
> Hope everyone’s doing well and thanks for all the kudos and comments it means a lot :)


	12. Jealousy and Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re back and better than ever!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself (also yes I’m quoting a corpse song shhhh)

_I don’t wanna look like this_

_Fuck_

_I don’t wanna feel like this_

_Fuck_

_Wish I didn’t miss him so_

_Much_

_Knew that this would happen, fuck_

_Love_

—

The blaring music was what first alerted them to the presence of the Dream Pack. 

As the throbbing bass grew louder, a grin aligned itself onto Kavinsky’s features, curling his expression into something feral. 

Jiang’s Supra and Swan’s Golf appeared from the edges of the fairground and as the cars slowed to a halt, Kavinsky shoved himself off the Mitsubishi hood that he’d been leaning on and made his way over to the two carelessly parked cars. 

The four other members of Kavinsky’s crew whooped as they exited their respective cars, Jiang and Proko play fighting while Skov offered his vape to Swan. 

As soon as Proko saw K, he beamed and hurried over to greet him, Kavinsky quickly crossed the distance between him, pulling him into his chest possessively and growling something into his ear. 

Ronan looked away. 

After several minutes of bantering between the group, Ronan heard the tell-tale crunch of Kavinsky’s boots on gravel moving towards him. When Kavinsky stopped in front of him Ronan slowly raised his gaze, startled to find Kavinsky’s face just a few inches from his own. 

He sucked in a quiet breath, trying to gauge K’s current emotions from behind his sunglasses and blankly guarded expression. His poker-face ensured that his mood remained a mystery. 

When the dirty traitors known as Ronan’s eyes subconsciously flicked down to K’s mouth, his sharp inhale must have flicked a switch because suddenly they were messily making out, Ronan unwilling to muster the effort to care. As long as he wasn’t thinking about Adam, he didn’t mind what they did. 

It was easy to get lost in the feeling of Kavinsky’s lips against his own, Kavinsky’s tongue in his mouth, his hands tightly gripping his shirt. It was easier than it should have been, but Ronan shoved away the guilt, unwilling to deal with that snarl of emotions tonight. 

Kavinsky broke the kiss with a grin that was more fangs that lips and whispered to Ronan, “damn, as much as I wish we could do this all night, we have guests. We’ll find another way to distract you, pretty boy.”

Ronan frowned at the generic feel of the nickname, but didn’t press him. Kavinsky seemed to be putting on more of a show than usual and Ronan wondered if it was because his friends were there or because of something Ronan had done. He didn’t feel like opening the door to that conversation, so he merely nodded in acceptance and stepped back. 

Kavinsky turned away. 

When Kavinsky smiled at his friends, Ronan wondered why he felt jealous. 

—

The consensus for the first stop of the evening was food. Skov had complained about how hungry he was and Swan and K had harped on him for his black-hole of a stomach, but then finally, finally, they’d all gotten back in their cars and set off. 

And now here they were, at a shitty burger shack across the street from a gas station at 9:30 on a Saturday night. The pack certainly kept him on his toes. 

Ronan was seated at a table with Swan and Skov and he watched as the two of them nudged each other back and forth as they traded-half hearted insults. Jiang was grabbing drinks from the soda stand while Proko and K stood at the counter. They were staring at the menu, Proko trying to decide what he wanted to order while Kavinsky did his best to be as unhelpful and distracting as possible. 

Ronan’s gaze was glued to their backs, eyes narrowed as he took in the hand that K had shoved into the back pocket of Proko’s pants, squeezing at random intervals and eliciting soft gasps from Proko. 

It was likely true that the intensity of Ronan’s glare could have killed a small rodent. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough he could set K’s hand on fire. He snorted. _That_ would be a sight to see. 

Was this seriously supposed to be his distraction for the night? At this point he could’ve just jerked off in his car… 

He was about to say as much when Proko _finally_ ordered and the he and K mosied on over to the table, Jiang close behind with several cups of soda. 

Ronan slouched further down into his seat, throwing K an unimpressed glare that K parried with a wink and an air kiss, his petty response acting as a placeholder for a middle finger. Asshole. 

At the ding of a bell and a garbled shout that presumably declared their orders ready, Ronan leapt out of his chair and quickly snatched his burger, grateful for the distraction from the tension in the air. 

Settling back down at the table, Ronan tore into his burger, the others wolfing theirs down with equal ferocity. For several moments, they were silent and the sound of rabid chewing filled the air, everyone except Skov seemingly having been previously unaware of their own appetites. 

The spell was broken when Swan burped loudly, Jiang flipped him off and Skov cackled, throwing an arm around Proko who begrudgingly leaned into him. Kavinsky smirked at the chaotic chain of events that had just occurred, eyes crinkling as he eased into a genuine smile, before his eyes flicked to Ronan for a moment and his mouth tightened. 

They held each other’s gazes silently for several moments, until Skov shoved Jiang into Ronan’s side, sudden impact distracting him. 

Kavinsky cleared his throat then asked, “Proko, are you done eating?”

The blond boy still had a few fries left, but he nodded and Skov took the opportunity to snatch the leftovers off his plate, cursing as Swan bit off one he had halfway to his mouth. 

Proko leaned his head onto K’s shoulder and closed his eyes, looking warm and content as K placed a greasy kiss on his forehead in a rare act of affection. Ronan felt something tighten in his gut and he glanced away. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Kavinsky finally declared. Out of the corner of his eye, Ronan could see that though K may have had his arm around Proko, his eyes were pinned on Ronan. 

—

At eleven pm Ronan found himself roaming the streets in their little clump of vehicles, bunched together like a pack of wolves roaming the desolate streets under shadowed buildings. 

Besides the dull light shining from the roadside lampposts and the harsh glare of 24-hour open signs, the night was theirs and theirs alone. 

They’d been driving around aimlessly for around half an hour, music from Swan’s vehicle spilling out of his windows and creeping into Ronan’s car, mixing with the murder squash song he’d had on, creating a decidedly unpleasant and hellish remix. He grimaced, hoping they’d stop somewhere soon so that he could take a break from the sound and quell his rapidly-budding headache. 

Interestingly enough, though his mind was free to wander – exactly what he’d been trying to avoid – he was not thinking of Adam. 

Instead, Kavinsky. 

Images of the boy plagued his subconscious, one after another appearing without warning until his brain could no longer shove the memories back down. 

Kavinsky, the first night they’d met with lust-filled eyes as he beckoned – no, _dared_ – Ronan to come talk to him with his cocky grin. Kavinsky, a blur of monochrome glinting in the haze as Ronan drank his problems away and tried to ignore his desire to join him. Kavinsky, standing in the eye of a hurricane, a whirlwind of flame and ash swirling around him, looking ever so much like the prince of hell that he was. Kavinsky, skin tinted lavender from the ethereal world that surrounded them, his existence the only chaos in the carefully constructed utopia. Kavinsky, chapped lips and dark lashes as he kissed Ronan again and again and again. Kavinsky, furious and jealous at the mere idea of Ronan being with Gansey, at the idea that Ronan could want someone who wasn’t him. Kavinsky, brooding and possessive as he grabbed Proko’s ass and glanced at Ronan, as he kissed Proko’s forehead and checked to see if Ronan had seen. 

Kavinsky, watching him intently. 

Always. 

—

They returned to the fairgrounds not too much past midnight and occupied themselves in several ways. Skov had gotten bored and pulled out a couple cases of beer and some weed so they passed the substances around until everyone had gotten their share. 

Bottles clinked as they chatted about nothing important, Skov launching into a difficult-to-follow story about some incident that had occurred at soccer practice, Swan interjecting every so often with a tidbit as Proko laughed right on cue. Jiang puffed out intricate swirls of smoke from where he lay on the ground, using Proko’s lap as a pillow. He’d taken his shirt off earlier after Swan had spilled nearly an entire beer onto him. He’d cursed Swan out, no real heat to the words, before pulling the clothing off indignantly and settling down with his head on Proko’s thigh. 

Curiously, Ronan peered over to see that he had several intricate tattoos curling across his ribs, hip and collarbone, complex patterns and images that Ronan couldn’t quite make out in the dim light. Earlier, Swan and Skov had shoddily constructed a campfire from random scraps of paper and trash that they’d found on the ground, but their surroundings were still dim and shadowed enough that Ronan couldn’t discern what his tattoos were. 

Jiang lifted his head to look over at him. 

“Admiring the view?” He drawled seductively. “You can come closer if you want to see them, I don’t mind.”

Ronan nodded hesitantly, noting the way Kavinsky’s eyes bore into his skull from where he was leaning his head on the hood of his car, not too far from Proko and Jiang. 

He crossed the distance to him, fighting the urge to look as he passed by Kavinsky and sat down a couple feet from Jiang. 

The boy sat up, resting his weight on his elbows, lip ring catching the light as he grinned. “C’mon, you can get closer than that.”

Ronan snorted. Apparently, Kavinsky wasn’t the only flirt out of the group. 

He scooted forwards a bit until his knees were brushing Jiang’s ribs and when Jiang lifted his hand to cup Ronan’s cheek, he leaned in and kissed him back. While he was discovering more and more about his feelings for Kavinsky, Ronan found that he still appreciated the physical intimacy from K’s friends. He actually _enjoyed_ kissing Jiang – he was damn good at it – and while he wasn’t the happiest when Kavinsky prioritized Proko over him, he didn’t mind seeing Kavinsky making out with Skov or grinding up on Swan. Ronan recognized that this wasn’t considered normal – from what he’d heard from guys at Aglionby, most people got extremely jealous when the person they liked hooked up with other people. Ronan supposed he was different in that way too, but he found that he didn’t really mind. 

Jiang’s lips were soft and warm and he tasted like smoke. His lip ring bit into Ronan’s skin and ground against his tongue in an oddly satisfying way when Jiang pressed his lip inside Ronan’s mouth. It was pleasant and comforting after the confusing yet heated making out he’d done with Kavinsky earlier and though he didn’t voice it, he almost felt grateful for the grounding kiss. 

When he leaned back Jiang grinned at him arrogantly. “Not bad, you’ve gotten better.”

Ronan snorted. “Uh huh. Thanks.”

Jiang laughed. “You wanted to see my tattoos right? Go ahead and look, I don’t care.”

Ronan nodded and allowed his gaze to slide down from Jiang’s face to his torso. Before he even registered the tattoos, he noticed more jewelry gleaming on his skin. Jiang had both of his nipples pierced with plain silver bars and they accentuated his chest nicely, all shadowed angles and sharp lines of muscle. 

Skimming his gaze a bit up, his eyes grazed Jiang’s collarbone, taking in the curl of an ocean wave that brushed up against his clavicle. It was a simple concept, yet the seemingly endless swirls of ink made it much more intricate and it reminded Ronan of a Celtic cross. Lower done, he bore another abstract depiction – this time of wind, and a dying sun kissed his ribs. 

“They’re beautiful.” Ronan murmured. 

Jiang offered him a small smile. “Thanks. Got any of your own?”

Ronan nodded. “Big one on my back, got a year or so ago… but I’m not gonna show you, I don’t just take my shirt off for anyone who asks.”

Jiang snorted. “Whatever. You don’t have to show me.” He turned back to face the fire and relaxed further into Proko’s lap. The blond boy caught Ronan’s gaze and then averted his eyes as if he hadn’t meant to look at him at all in the first place. 

Ronan turned away, chest twinging oddly and ignored the odd cocktail of emotions chipping away at his sanity, in exchange for allowing himself to mesmerized by the flames greedily licking the night sky. 

He wondered what it was that he wanted. He wondered if he’d be allowed to have it, if he ever figured himself out. 

The flames did not answer. 

—

The fire had gone out hours ago and one by one, the boys had passed out under the sky. Jiang was nuzzled into Proko’s lap, the blond boy resting his head on the hood of Jiang’s car while he snored softly. Swan and Skov were wrapped in an indistinct pile on the other side of the fire, bottles scattered haphazardly around them, along with a couple of loose cigarettes and a vape pod. 

For some unknown reason, Ronan was not asleep. 

He hadn’t made a conscious effort either way – just lost himself in memories of interactions with Kavinsky and the nights they’d spent together these past couple of months. When had things gotten so complicated? 

His eyes flicked up and he took in the rapidly-pinking sky, stars finally turning in as the new day dawned. 

“You’re awake.”

Ronan flicked his tired eyes over to see Kavinsky watching him, rings of purple accentuating his lashes. 

“Yeah.”

Kavinsky rose and slowly trudged over to him, voice silent as the sky as he crossed the distance between them. Ronan stood too and Kavinsky bit his lip before turning away and gesturing with a nod of his head that Ronan should follow. 

Soon, they found themselves seated in an alcove that overlooked a softly chortling stream, sunrise visible just beyond the rushing current. The parallelism was eerie; Ronan couldn’t help but remember the last sunrise they’d seen together, that one purple instead of pink and imagined rather than real. However, just as strong as his emotions coursed through him now, they had been equally torrential back then. 

Ronan swallowed. 

He was so tired, so very tired of it all. Of keeping secrets, of not understanding his own emotions or what he wanted, of the confusion and anger and exhaustion. He was tired of fighting it all. 

He turned to Kavinsky and for once said what was on his mind, incapacitating fatigue a blessing in that instant. “Are you in love with Proko?”

Kavinsky slowly shifted to look at him. He didn’t respond right away, but took a moment to inhale softly then release the sharp breath. “And what if I was?”

Ronan had no reply. 

Kavinsky didn’t exactly smile, but his lips twitched and his eyes spoke volumes. “You can love more than one person at a time, Ronan.”

Ronan nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue and he did. 

“I love my boys. All of them. Skov and Swan and Jiang and Proko. We’ve been through a lot together and we know each other better than anyone. I never wanted to be with anyone else since the day I met them.”

Ronan stiffened and cast his eyes on the ground, but nodded again. 

“Until I met you.”

Ronan looked up at him and found Kavinsky searching his eyes. 

“I don’t know what it is about you… but I’m pulled to you the way I’ve only ever been to my pack. You’re a dreamer like me and before I met you I thought I was the only one. I thought I was… alone.” Kavinsky audibly swallowed the lump in his throat as he powered onwards. “None of them have ever understood what it’s like or what it does to me and I never thought I’d meet someone else who could do it too… til you showed up in my dreams and changed it all. 

“Ro, I don’t know why we ended up in each other’s dreams, if it was meant to be or some shit, but we did and now we’re here and now… you know that I want you.”

The aching silence that followed Kavinsky’s final words was riddled with tension and Ronan exhaled in an effort to diffuse some of it. 

“Okay,” he replied anticlimactically and Kavinsky barked a laugh. Ronan shot him a glare that told him to shut up so that he could continue. 

“I think I’m in love with Adam.”

He had finally voiced the words that he’d kept locked away for far too long. While he knew this wasn’t what Kavinsky wanted to hear, Ronan understood that he had to get it off his chest before they could move forward. 

“But I only admitted it to myself after I met you.”

Kavinsky’s head snapped up to stare at him, confusion clouding his eyes. 

“He was always unattainable, always something I could admire but never have. And then I met you and realized that how I felt about him wasn’t just platonic. I didn’t let myself realize I was gay until I met you. I didn’t _want_ to realize.”

Kavinsky’s brow furrowed, but he nodded, gesturing for Ronan to continue. 

“Caring about him was safe because I could watch from afar. But you’re here and you’re real and I get so fucking scared sometimes because I only have Adam and Gansey and my brothers. I don’t give out trust freely when it hasn’t been earned. And you just showed up one day in my dreams and you broke all of that down and I didn’t know what to do.  
“You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever known and it scares the hell out of me… but I want you. Adam is never going to want to be with me and tonight I realized that I don’t need him to. He’s not meant to end up with someone like me and… I don’t hate him for it.”

Another silence descended upon them and this time it was charged with something other than anxiety or fear. It was release. It was acceptance. It was understanding. 

Kavinsky cautiously slid his hand into Ronan’s, intertwining their fingers and relaxing as Ronan carefully placed his head on Kavinsky shoulder breathing him in. 

Together, they watched the sun rise climb over the horizon, transforming night into day. Not everything had been figured out, but not everything had to be. Trust was the first step and against the odds, they’d made it that far... it had just required pulling an all-nighter to feel raw enough to spill their feelings. 

Huddling together under the pink and orange sunrise, exhausted yet wired, they clung to one another like they couldn’t survive without each other’s warmth. 

And so, a new day began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay I promise I didn’t give up on this, life just happened and I didn’t have the brainpower to continue writing when it was such a pivotal moment in the story and I was so dead inside 
> 
> But now we’re back!!! Writing gods punched me in the head and restarted my brain so updates will no longer take three months yayy
> 
> I actually did write a bunch of stuff between now and last time I updated this, I had some serious writers block for this fic but cranked out a bunch of one shots in case you wanna look at those 
> 
> Just Hair Dyeing Things (Skov/Kavinsky emotional rollercoaster + smut)
> 
> Gansey/K Chronicles of Sexci Bad Decisions (series)
> 
> Night (Soft Rovinsky) (series) 
> 
> And more coming soon!!! 
> 
> It’s almost winter break for me and a bunch of my classes got cancelled this week so I’ve been going wild. 
> 
> Anyway hope all of you are doing well take care of ya selves!! <3


	13. Lagging Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating has changed to explicit :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol have fun

A little over a week had passed since the night Ronan had spent with Kavinsky and for the life of him, he couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation. 

Sneaking back into Monmouth that morning, he felt as if something important had shifted, the world now aligned slightly differently than it had been before. It was… odd, but not bad. 

Still not quite sober, exhausted and sleep deprived, the two of them had talked, openly and honestly, and there was no taking back the things that they’d said. No taking back Ronan’s all-too raw confession about Adam, no taking back Kavinsky’s explanation of his feelings, and no taking back the softness that had bloomed in Ronan’s chest when Kavinsky had held his hand. 

Sitting there with him, he had felt like he belonged. 

And when the time had come for him to leave, to go back to the ‘real world’, he hadn’t wanted to go, and Kavinsky hadn’t wanted him to either. 

_“Please, Ro.” Kavinsky’s eyes were wide and desperate, far too vulnerable and honest compared to the shield he normally kept up. “Don’t leave me, you always leave me.”_

_Ronan swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have to. Gansey will be up soon, I don’t want him to know I’ve been out all night.”_

_Kavinsky looked at him, dark lashes framing his eyes. “You only come back when you want something from me, when you want an escape from your life… but you always go back in the end.”_

_Ronan opened his mouth and then closed it. Kavinsky wasn’t… wrong. In fact, he was far too right._

_“I have to go,” Ronan said slowly. “I have to go, but I’ll come back. I promise.”_

_“You promise?” Kavinsky asked weakly._

_Ronan swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I promise.”_

_And he left without another word._

Snapping back to the present, Ronan sighed. He’d never seen Kavinsky so _vulnerable_ before and it was a shock compared to the parts of himself he’d shown Ronan before. 

There was so much that had happened that night, so many new angles of Kavinsky that he’d barely glimpsed before. He was jealous and possessive and while Ronan may have gotten hints of it initially, he’d never seen it in action so intensely as he had that night. 

Talking about Gansey like he hated the idea of him having been with Ronan first, finding out about Adam instead and not being able to accept it – at least until their conversation much later - instead, rubbing his relationship with Proko in Ronan’s face, laughing with his friends and acting like Ronan wasn’t important to him, trying to get a rise out of him. 

It wasn’t like it hadn’t worked; Ronan had been jealous, but it had also had another interesting consequence: Ronan had spent an evening actually getting to know K’s friends better. Skov and Swan had accepted him pretty readily, more than happy to him in on their jokes and pull him into whatever they were fucking around with at the time. Jiang was more quiet, but his willingness to show Ronan his tattoos and let him into that aspect of his life had felt like a big step – it was obvious that they meant something important to him. (And the making out, but that was a given from the beginning.) Proko was another story, but excluding him, Ronan had felt a bit like it was the beginning of a friendship between them all. He’d been at ease – besides the tension between him and Proko and K – but beyond that, he’d been fairly relaxed around the pack. Once they’d settled down, he’d genuinely enjoyed himself, fitting in strangely well, surprising him since this was the first real time they’d actually just hung out beyond kissing and not really talking. He could almost see himself becoming one of them, going to parties and doing stupid shit, making out with all of them and having inside jokes and play fighting and having people who accepted and understood him. 

He was shocked by how welcomed he’d felt, how comfortable he’d been with near strangers. 

So maybe Kavinsky’s convoluted way of trying to make him envious had actually worked in his favor; he’d begun to see Kavinsky’s friends as less like competition and more like friends of his own. 

And throughout all of that, another _different_ side of Kavinsky had shown through…

Why the _fuck_ had it taken Ronan so long to realize he was beautiful?! 

He was beautiful. He was. 

It was definitely preference-based, much like Kavinsky’s ‘charming’ personality suited some and not others, but from Ronan’s perspective, his beauty was undoubtably apparent. 

Dark, slicked back hair that was thick and wavy. His eyes and eyelashes were the same hue as his locks, midnight black and in stark contrast with his pale face. He had perpetual dark circles and dry lips and a scar across his nose, but Ronan would argue that it only added to his fascination. Kavinsky’s eyes were sharp and calculating and he hid the parts of himself he didn’t want people to see behind a vicious smirk and dangerous glint in his gaze, daring anyone to challenge him. His lips were cracked and sometimes bleeding and when he kissed him it sometimes felt more like fighting than making out, lips overtaking Ronan’s at every turn, tongue teasing and testing and tasting him. Kavinsky smelled like smoke and anyone who looked at him could tell that he was a ticking time bomb, and Ronan loved it all. 

A warm feeling bloomed in his gut as he lay on his bed, thinking back to that night, thinking about how Kavinsky kissed him and how he had kissed him all the times before. He was dangerous and ferocious and possessive and angry and _captivating_. He was beautiful. 

Ronan was only human. 

And he wanted him. 

Ronan paused his train of thought for a moment, listening to the sounds outside of his door. Gansey was shuffling around the main room, likely studying or researching or something of the like. Adam was working and away. 

If he… would Gansey be able to hear…?

He normally did it in the shower or waited until Gansey was out or at crew practice, but today, he didn’t want to wait. As long as Gansey didn’t hear, it would be fine. 

Sucking in a breath, he quietly unzipped his jeans and slid them off, bed frame creaking quietly beneath him. The pants were too tight – he wouldn’t have had as much free range with them on and sitting there in his black silk boxers, he felt so much better. 

His dick was hard, tenting his underwear and ghosting his fingers over the top of it, a soft and breathy moan escaped his lips. Slowly, he pulled the elastic band over his cock and shoved it down, allowing it to rest below his balls as he spit on his palm and began to stroke. 

Scooting back, he propped his pillow up against the bed frame sitting up a little higher as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and tugged more earnestly. Biting his lip, he closed his eyes and thought of Kavinsky. 

In his mind, Kavinsky was lying on top of him, hands planted on other side of his shoulders, thin arms caging him in, dark hair falling in front of his face, sunglasses nowhere to be seen. He grinned and Ronan groaned as the imaginary Kavinsky jerked him off, slow movements beginning to speed up, hips arching off the bed as he fisted harder and harder into his hand. 

“Yes… fuck… shit… fuck, _Kavinsky_ ,” he moaned, voice low and breathy, the only remaining functioning part of his brain keeping him quiet enough not to be heard. 

Ronan’s breathing quickened and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep himself from being to loud, moaning into his palm as he thrust into his hand, shifting and shaking as the bed creaked in time with his movements. Faster and faster, he jerked his hand, heat building in his abdomen. 

Thumbing over the head, Ronan quivered and finally came, groaning loudly, hand falling off of his mouth as his head filled with static as he pumped his hand through the orgasm until it was over and he collapsed. 

For several seconds, he laid there, mind and vision slowly becoming less fuzzy as his breathing began to return to normal. Looking down at his abdomen, white stripes covered the skin and had plastered his shirt to his body where it was rucked up over his stomach. 

Ronan swung his legs off the bed, still catching his breath, legs unsteady as he stood and pulled the shirt off, wiping down his stomach and grimacing at the mess as his body glowed from the pleasant feeling and the memory of who he’d been thinking of. 

A small smirk was just beginning to slip onto his lips when he heard a knock on the door. 

“Ronan?” Gansey’s voice was quiet and an edge of concern had crept in. Shit. He had been too loud hadn’t he. He’d let himself go loose when he’d came. 

“Hey.” Ronan said awkwardly, standing in the center of his room, tucking his duck back into his boxers as Gansey stood just beyond the door. 

“Are you alright? I heard… you yell.” Was Gansey seriously worried about him? After the incident the year before, maybe he was worried Ronan had hurt himself, but even knowing that, wasn’t it pretty obvious what he’d been doing? 

Next time he’d just wait til Gansey left. 

Or go in the shower. 

“I’m fine,” Ronan replied slowly. “Doing fantastic,” he said with an edge of sarcasm, though it wasn’t far from the truth. 

“Good…” Gansey’s voice trailed off and Ronan could tell he was lingering by the door. 

“I’m going to take a shower now,” Ronan said leisurely, pulling on a pair of sweats and opening the door. 

Gansey was standing just beyond the doorframe, cheeks slightly flushed and as Ronan watched his eyes drift from his face to the marks on his neck, soon moving his chest and abs, something in him jolted. 

Oh. _Oh_.

Gansey was… checking him out? 

What. The. _Fuck_. 

And now, because Ronan was an idiot and still riding the high of his incredible orgasm, he’d forgotten that he had faint red marks on his neck and collarbone from last weekend. 

Gansey lifted his gaze back to Ronan’s eyes. 

“You bruised your neck.”

Ronan nodded. 

He didn’t know how to process what was going on. He’d never suspected that Gansey could be interested in him. What the fuck? 

He nodded again. 

“I’m going to take a shower.”

And with that, he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that I am the dumbest bitch in the land because I never even intended for the Gansey thing to happen, but when I stumbled across the idea, I couldn’t resist. No spoilers but it just makes everything I *do* have planned so much better and I’m actually super hype about the coming chapters :))
> 
> FYI fic will become increasingly more explicit and drama filled so lol have fun with the nonsense
> 
> If you’d like to know where all the ships stand, check out the tags as I have updated them
> 
> Fun fact I was literally about to say in the notes of this chapter that we’re nearing the finale but we aren’t since I now have more ideas so you’re stuck with me for a while longer (also I swear more frequent updates like actually give me 2-3 for the next chapter I’m trying to prewrite and get myself together okay shhhh)
> 
> Also, one time someone mentioned in a fic that Ronan wears black silk boxers and I’m stealing that headcanon so shoutout to whoever said that bc you’re right and you should say it 
> 
> Btw next chapter we got some Ronan/K _action_ so look forward to that ;) 
> 
> Do tell me your thoughts about thsi turn of events bc I spent thirty minutes key-smashing and internally screaming about it


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